









CDFXRIGHT DEPOSm 





r 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


























Harry found liimself uncomfortably stranded. 










































/ 

An Heir At Large 


By 

JOHN T. McCUTCHEON 

t \ 

Author of 

IN AFRICA, THE RESTLESS AGE, 

ETC. 


With Illustrations 
BY THE AUTHOR 


m 


} 


> > > 


> 


} 

> 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 






Copyright^ 1922 
By The Chicago Tribune 

Copyright, 1923 

By The Bobbs-Merrill Company 








/ 

1 



Printed in the United States of America 



MAR 16 *23' 



© Cl &G98624 






AN HEIR AT LARGE 



An Heir at Large 


CHAPTER I 

Young Henry Livingston Bacon sat 
hunched up in a deep chair dazed by the change 
in his fortunes. 

Yesterday he wondered where he was to get 
the money to pay his room rent. To-day he 
could buy the whole apartment-house, grounds 
and furnishings, together with all the neigh¬ 
boring property for a couple of blocks in both 
directions. 

It was incredible. 

As though reconstructing an elusive dream, 
he recalled the even tones of his lawyer whose 
office he had so recently left. 

‘^You have received the entire fortune of 
your late uncle. At his death the principal 
and interest became yours by virtue of a trust 

9 


10 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


agreement between the settlor and the trustees 
made nearly four years ago. After trans¬ 
ferring the estate to you he retained the income 
during his lifetime. 

'^Aside from half a dozen of his closest busi¬ 
ness associates, no one knew the extent of your 
uncle’s operations or the magnitude of his for¬ 
tune. He was very secretive.” 

Bacon remembered how he had been struck 
by the word '‘magnitude.” It was unexpected¬ 
ly impressive. 

"Having disposed of his fortune by trust 
agreement before his death he has circum¬ 
vented the inheritance tax, for there is no will 
to be probated, and the size of the estate does 
not become public. In recent years the prop¬ 
erty has been converted almost wholly into tax 
exempt securities, which by reason of an old 
decision—the McCulloch against Maryland de¬ 
cision—-are not taxable by the Federal Govern¬ 
ment. 

"You will be interested, I’m sure, in hearing 
that, after the payment of all taxes, claims, and 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


11 


debts, the fortune you inherit will reach very 
close to- 

The lawyer paused here to note the effect. 
He then added evenly: 

“Fifteen million dollars.^’ He allowed him¬ 
self the shadow of a smile. “It ought to be 
enough to keep the wolf from the door.^’ 

Fifteen millions! Instead of keeping the 
wolf from the door it would probably draw 
many to it. 

Young Bacon never dreamed that his uncle, 
living in hermit-like seclusion, was so rich— 
far less that he might some day be his heir. 
In fact, he supposed himself to be in disfavor. 

In college, and later in his regiment, he had 
won the honor of being the best amateur boxer 
in the one hundred and seventy pound class, a 
distinction which could hardly have appealed 
to his cold, reserved uncle. 

So certain was he of his uncle^s disapproval 
that he had not appealed to him for help when 
he started to work nearly three years before. 
He had plugged along to his present position, 



12 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


paying two thousand five hundred dollars a 
year, without benefit of pull. During those 
three years he had seen little of his uncle, but 
evidently an appraising eye had been upon 
him, 

'This—this fortune,” he finally regained 
composure enough to ask, "is it to remain in 
the hands of the trustees?” 

"Your uncle seems to have had faith in your 
judgment and character,” the lawyer answered. 
"He did not tie up his estate with conditions. 
There are no strings leading from the grave. 
You are at liberty to squander every cent and 
ruin yourself as far as he is concerned. Of 
course, we all hope you will be sensible and 
rise to the responsibilities which such a for¬ 
tune entails. Don't let it spoil you, as inherit¬ 
ed money has spoiled so many other young 
men.” 

"You mean,” said Bacon in a faint voice, 
"you mean that it is mine now; that I can get 
money now?” 

"Certainly. There is a considerable sum in 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


13 


the bank at this moment that has not been re¬ 
invested yet/’ 

Together they walked to the bank, where the 
young man was introduced and his signature 
deposited. A check-book—visible evidence 
that he was not dreaming—was now in his 
pocket. 

As the lawyer bade him good-by he asked 
in a kindly tone if there was anything more he 
could do. 

^^There is only one thing,” Bacon had an¬ 
swered, a vague idea rising in the back of his 
mind. ‘‘Can all this be kept secret for some 
time—perhaps a few weeks, or months? Is 
that possible?” 

“Certainly. No one need know except our¬ 
selves and the bank. You will not be obliged 
to file an income tax return for several 
months.” 

And now—back in his room, gazing at the 
check-book with its limitless possibilities, his 
thoughts turned to Miss Muriel Lannard. 

Would she still refuse him, he wondered. 


14 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Would Miss Muriel Lannard look with more 
favor upon Mr. Henry Livingston Bacon, heir 
to fifteen million dollars, than she had upon 
young Harry Bacon, struggling along on two 
thousand five hundred dollars a year ? 

This was the hypothetical question which 
that young man, still staggered by the fact of 
his inheritance, put to himself as he sat in his 
room. 

Heretofore he could offer her nothing but 
love and a well established proficiency in pugil¬ 
ism—not a useful asset in married life!—but 
now he could offer a wealth of things suffici¬ 
ently overwhelming to make even her ambitious 
mother gasp. 

He recalled that lady's chilling politeness. 
By numberless acts, trivial but subtly expres¬ 
sive, she had indicated her active disapproval of 
his attentions to her daughter. 

How would she act now ? Would the magic 
of that huge figure impel her to graciousness? 
The thought gave him considerable pleasure. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


15 


He spent some time rolling it around in his 
mind. He pictured himself gazing into her 
frigid, unfriendly eyes and saying: ^'By the 
way, Mrs. Lannard, had you heard that my 
uncle has just left me fifteen million dollars?’’ 
He wondered what else she would do besides 
fall off her chair. 

It was certainly an impressive sum. Re¬ 
duced to terms within his comprehension, it 
was equivalent to three hundred thousand 
weeks’ pay at his present salary. Much could 
be done with that amount of money, much 
good or muck bad. 

He thought of other rich young men, and 
decided they used little imagination in the use 
of their opportunities. Some had been ruined 
by the destruction of all incentive to effort. 
Others had plunged madly into the pointless 
scramble to double their wealth. 

Bacon resolved to follow neither. But it be¬ 
came increasingly important that the fact of his 
sudden accession to money be kept secret. 


16 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Along that course lay the only hope of success 
in the plan which was dimly forming in his 
brain. 

The vast power that was now his must be 
withheld from the knowledge of those whose 
attitude would change the instant his money 
eclipsed himself in their minds. 

With this plan of campaign, he called up the 
residence of Mr. E. Johnstone Lannard. Miss 
Lannard was at home. 

'This is Harry. I want to see you very 
much. May I come over?’' 

"Oh, IVe such a headache. Tm awfully 
sorry.” 

"How about to-night? You may be feeling 
better. May I call you up again later ?” 

There was a long silence. When she spoke 
again there was a faint suggestion of irritation. 

"What is it, Harry? The same old thing, 
or something else? You know how mama 
feels.” 

"But this is important—a great secret that 
Tm dying to tell you.” 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


17 


There was another strained silence. 

'^Oh, well—come this afternoon—about 
five.^’ 

The receiver was hung up on a young man 
who had many more things to say. He smiled 
a little bitterly. 

At five o’clock, when the avenue was 
thronged with aristocratic cars, a second-hand 
Ford drew up before the Lannard stately man¬ 
sion. 

Harry Bacon leaped out and was soon greet¬ 
ing Muriel jubilantly. 

‘^My car is outside,” he announced. 'T just 
bought it to-day and I want you to be the first 
to ride in it with me.” 

Her eyes lighted up. This was interesting! 

‘'Your car, Harry!” she exclaimed. Since 
when could he afford a car ? 

“Oh, it isn’t a very grand car,” he answered 

modestly, “but it goes.” 

“And so do I. Em dying to see it.” 

She hurried away and soon reappeared in 
her smartest hat and coat. 


18 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


^‘Let’s go up the avenue and through the 
park/' she said gaily. 

Muriel Lannard stopped abruptly when she 
saw the lowly flivver standing at the curb. 

‘That!" she exclaimed. ‘Ts that your car 

“Absolutely! Why not?" responded Harry 
Bacon, opening the door with an elaborate 
flourish. “My lady, the car awaits! Let us 
away through the lovely parks and teeming 
boulevards." 

Her face reflected a tumult of angry emo¬ 
tions. She had an impulse to fly back into the 
house. How could she ride up the boulevard 
at this fashionable hour in that thing! A hun¬ 
dred acquaintances were certain to recognize 
her. 

The cranking of the car took some time, dur¬ 
ing which the occupants of passing motors 
looked on with curiosity and amusement. Miss 
Lannard was conspicuously dressed for a 
Rolls-Royce, not for an humble flivver. She 
was deeply chagrined, and held her fur high 
about her face. If Harry was conscious of her 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


19 


anger, he gave no sign. Glancing quickly from 
right to left, she hurriedly entered the car. 

'We’ll not go up to the park,’’ she said 
abruptly. 

He smiled. 

"Not ashamed of my car, are you?” 

She flushed. 

"I just remembered that I must go down to 
the Day Nursery.” 

He smiled again. The way to the nursery 
lay through obscure streets into the heart of the 
tenement district. She would never be recog¬ 
nized in those sections. 

Soon the little car was rattling busily over 
cobblestones instead of asphalt. 

"Don’t you think she runs nicely for her 
age?” asked Harry cheerfully, apparently un¬ 
aware of the smoldering resentment at his 
side. 

"I got it cheap,” he continued, steering be¬ 
tween the crowds of children playing in the 
streets. When the car grazed one group he 
heard her exclaim irritably: 


20 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


‘/How annoying! Why don’t they keep 
their miserable children at home!” 

At that moment Harry suddenly hated the 
girl. 

After a time they drew up before a neat 
building bearing a sign “Day Nursery.” He 
had been there before. It was Miss Lannard’s 
pet charity, to which she gave an occasional 
hour of service when social demands were 
slack. 

A pleasant-faced but rather harassed matron 
greeted them, and was presently pouring out 
the woes of the institution into Miss Lannard’s 
unheeding ear. The expenses were still nearly 
double pre-war ones, and she knew poeple were 
less than ever inclined to give to charities. But 
unless supplementary funds were raised at 
once, she would either have to turn away tired 
mothers who each day, on the way to the fac¬ 
tory or shop, brought their pale children for the 
clean food and wholesome attention of the 
nursery, or else cut down mercilessly on that 
verv food and attention. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


21 


One little girl looked wistfully into Miss 
Lannard’s face, which suddenly showed a glow 
of tenderness. 

‘^You poor little dear!’’ she exclaimed, kneel¬ 
ing and catching the shy little thing in her 
arms. 

Harry’s eyes softened as he watched her. 
The impulsive action, so appealingly maternal, 
struck a chord deep in his heart. 

‘^You’re wonderful, Muriel,” he said, so low 
that only she heard. ‘‘You love children, don’t 
you ?” 

She shot a quick glance at him. There was 
no mistaking what he was thinking of, and she 
flushed uncomfortably. Again on their way 
home, he spoke of her love for children and 
how they must adore her, but her beautiful pro¬ 
file was now tight-lipped and set. 

And once again Harry puzzled over the 
question that was growing in his mind. Which 
was the real Muriel Lannard—the one who was 
irritated by children playing in the street, or 
the one whose arms had tenderly caressed the 


22 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


little unfortunate in the Day Nursery? One 
was hateful, the other adorable. 

Their arrival at Muriel's home was tragic¬ 
ally ill-timed. 

Mrs. Lannard had just alighted from her 
limousine as the flivver rattled up to the curb. 

Harry felt a restraining hand on his arm as 
Muriel sought to prevent discovery by her 
mother. But too late. He was out of the car 
and holding the door open for her to descend. 

Then Mrs. Lannard saw him. She stopped 
abruptly, a questioning look in her eyes. 
Glancing at the muffled figure in the flivver, she 
asked in a hard voice: 

^Ts that you, Muriel?" 

'‘Yes, mother," said the girl, slowly stepping 
out. 

Harry was conscious of a high tension. 
Mrs. Lannard had not yet even bowed to him. 

"Where have you been, Muriel?" she asked 
coldly. 

"Mr. Bacon and I have been down to the 
Dav Nurserv." 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


23 


I m sorry. The count came just after you 
left the house. He waited for you/' Then, 
turning to Bacon, she said with pointed dis¬ 
tinctness: ‘Tf Mr. Bacon will excuse you, I 
W'ould like to speak to you inside." 

That young man was not unprepared for the 
cold douche, but it aroused in him the impulsive 
desire to tell her at once that he had just fallen 
heir to a great fortune for the pure fun of see¬ 
ing her inevitable reaction. With difficulty he 
restrained himself. This was not the moment 
for such a disclosure. So, bowing, he took his 
leaye, and later in his room reviewed the situa¬ 
tion in all its aspects. 


CHAPTER II 


Since the beginning Mrs. Lannard had 
never for one moment allowed Harry to forget 
that his attentions to her daughter were un¬ 
welcome. He was naturally always very un¬ 
comfortable in her presence. A decent, healthy 
young man whose record in college and in the 
war had been creditable, whose ancestors had 
been highly respectable, he perceived that his 
chief drawback, from Mrs. Lannard’s point of 
view, was his modest social standing. 

She was obviously ambitious for a brilliant 
marriage for Muriel, one that would read well 
in the society columns. Perhaps she was right; 
certainly she was normal in wishing to see her 
daughter married to a man who could sustain 
her in the scale of living to which she had been 
accustomed. 


24 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


25 


Consequently he knew that if she even sus¬ 
pected the fact of his fifteen millions her whole 
manner would undergo an abrupt and favor¬ 
able change. 

But was she only mercenary ? This count, he 
couldn^t even support Muriel. He would be a 
barnacle on the family fortunes. If Mrs. Lan- 
nard approved of a fortune-hunting foreigner 
merely because his title, shared by her daugh¬ 
ter, would give her a pleasant thrill, that re¬ 
vealed her motives as being snobbish, too—as 
putting a higher valuation upon an empty title 
than upon her daughter’s permanent welfare. 

After all, who were the Lannards, anyway, 
he wondered cynically. They had come from a 
small town in Pennsylvania where Mr. Lan- 
nard’s extensive factories were still located. 
No doubt they were ordinary people enough 
before riches had come to them and they had 
moved to the great city. It would be interest¬ 
ing to know something about their antecedents 
and connections, if only to discover what license 
thev had to look down on him. 


26 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


This reflection gave him food for a ne^v line 
of thought and action. In the meantime he 
wrote a polite note to Mrs. Lannard asking 
for a private interview. 

A brief response came the following day. 
She would see him. No doubt her ready ac¬ 
quiescence was due to her wish to finish once 
and for all Bacon’s unwelcome attentions. She 
seemed convinced of her ability to dispose of 
the matter definitely. 

At the appointed hour Harry was sitting in 
the little reception room of the Lannard house, 
where Mrs. Lannard kept him waiting twenty- 
five minutes. LFnder other circumstances he 
would have been miserably nervous, but now 
the consciousness of possession of a vast for¬ 
tune gave him that sense of power and confi¬ 
dence which great wealth always brings. 

He knew Mrs. Lannard considered him only 
a poor young man, worthy no doubt as to hab¬ 
its and health, but not one whose name would 
look impressive on a wedding invitation. It 
amused him to speculate how quickl^^ he could 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


27 


—if he wished—change what he knew would 
be her attitude in the forthcoming interview. 

At five minutes before three Mrs. Lannard 
entered the room. She bowed coldly. Hardly 
had she seated herself when a maid brought a 
message. Mrs. Van Ormonde was expecting 
her at three. 

^T will be there at once.’’ 

To Bacon it looked like a prearranged piece 
of strategy to insure a brief interview. 

^T have only a few minutes, Mr. Bacon. I’m 
sorry, but I must ask you to be brief.” 

have come to speak about Muriel, Mrs. 
Lannard.” He saw her lips tighten. 

“As I supposed, although I was not aware 
that the state of affairs between you and my 
daughter had advanced so far.” It was evi¬ 
dent Mrs. Lannard was not disposed to make 
things easy. 

“That is quite true, Mrs. Lannard. As you 
may know, I have asked her many times to 
marry me, but she has refused. Sometimes, 
however, I have been encouraged to think her 


28 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


refusals were becoming less positive, but this 
may be due to a hopeful imagination/’ He 
paused, but there was, as he expected, no glint 
of sympathy in her eyes. 

‘‘Mr. Bacon, what I must say is best said 
frankly and without equivocation. Muriel is 
aware of your visit and is, I may say, amazed 
at your action. She does not love you and as¬ 
sures me she has no desire or intention of ever 
marrying you. You will be sparing yourself 
much trouble if you recognize this as definite 
and final.” 

She stood up to end the interview. As Bacon 
arose he said evenly, in a voice quite free from 
nervousness or emotion. 

“Mrs. Lannard, you have never concealed 
your disapproval of my attentions to your 
daughter. No doubt you have reasons which 
seem excellent to you. May I ask you to be 
still more frank with me and tell me why you 
object to me?” 

Mrs. Lannard regarded him for a moment. 
It had just struck her disconcertingly that there 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 29 

was the faintest gleam of amusement in his 
eyes. 

He continued pleasantly: “Is it my person¬ 
ality, my poverty, or my pedigree?” 

There was now no doubt that his eyes were 
twinkling. It annoyed her intensely. Stung 
to sudden fury, she lost her studied poise. 

“Mr. Bacon, I can not prolong this futile dis¬ 
cussion! I can only say you are quite impos¬ 
sible ! I trust that is frank enough for you to 
comprehend.” Then, as if to reinforce her 
statement, she added: “I am speaking the sen¬ 
timents of my daughter as well as those of her 
father and myself when I say that your pre¬ 
tensions to enter the Lannard family have been 
regarded as absurd.” 

Bacon bowed. The discussion had taken ex¬ 
actly the line he foresaw. He had realized per¬ 
fectly the worldliness of Mrs. Lannard and the 
value she placed upon a high-sounding mar¬ 
riage for her daughter. 

What he did not know was that Mrs. Lan¬ 
nard was not speaking the exact truth when 


30 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


she quoted the sentiments of her daughter. 
Muriel knew nothing of this visit. At the 
moment she was out motoring with a nobleman 
from a Slavic republic who had come to this 
country to recoup the fortune he had lost at 
Monte Carlo in the ‘^good old days’^ of the 
czar. 

Bacon left the Lannard house feeling that a 
disagreeable but necessary job had been dis¬ 
posed of. He would leave Muriel to her noble¬ 
man, this girl who inspired in him waves of 
alternating hate and love. He was tired of 
being looked down upon. Some time it might 
prove interesting to investigate the roots of the 
Lannard family tree to see where '^they got 
that haughty stuff.’’ 

That night he wrote a note to Muriel. 

''You have often refused me, but I was hop¬ 
ing to go on giving you opportunities to re¬ 
verse your decision, just for variety. However, 
your mother, in quoting your feelings this 
afternoon, showed me how utterly futile it will 
be for me to inflict myself upon you any more. 
May I mark my withdrawal by a little act of 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


31 


appreciation for the splendid work you are do¬ 
ing in connection with your pet charity, the 
Day Nursery? Won’t you please give the en¬ 
closed check to the nursery—with the one con¬ 
dition that you do not reveal the name of the 
donor ?” 

He enclosed his check for twenty-five thou¬ 
sand dollars. 

With Miss Muriel Lannard’s breakfast tray, 
which came to her bedside at ten o’clock, was 
her morning mail neatly arranged by her maid. 

She glanced idly through the letters—invi¬ 
tations, advertisements, club announcements, 
and two or three that looked as though they 
might be interesting. 

'"One from Harry. What in the world is on 
his mind to-day?” 

She saved it for the last. 

As she slit the envelope she was conscious of 
the little thrill she always felt at his letters. 
It was her heart arguing with her head. Oh, 
why was he so hopelessly poor! His income 
would hardly pay her bridge losses. 


32 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


She wanted to be independent of her father, 
whose generous allowance was being given 
more grudgingly as his business affairs were 
becoming more disturbing. There were con¬ 
stant labor troubles at his factories. Strike 
after strike! Where the strikers got enough 
money to hold out was more than he could un¬ 
derstand. 

Conditions had become so unsatisfactory that 
at times her father seriously considered the ad¬ 
visability of moving his family back to Adam¬ 
ant, Pennsylvania, where the factories were 
located, a prospect which IMrs. Lannard viewed 
with consternation. 

These family secrets were much in Muriehs 
mind these days, and they arose again un¬ 
pleasantly as she opened Harry Bacon's letter. 
If only he were rich how simple everything 
would be. 

A slip of paper dropped from the folds of the 
letter. It looked like a check. She opened it 
quickly and her eyes dilated with amazement. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


33 


It was a check for twenty-five thousand dollars, 
drawn to the order of the Day Nursery, her pet 
charity, and was signed by Henry Livingston 
Bacon. 

What silly joke was this? Had he lost his 
mind ? Hastily she read his letter—a few brief 
lines of farewell. There seemed no joke about 
this. 

In an instant she was out of bed and in her 
mother's boudoir, her face agitated, and was 
thrusting the letter and check into that aston¬ 
ished lady's hands. 

^What does this mean ?" she exclaimed. 

‘‘Mean ?" repeated Mrs. Lannard. “It means 
that he's crazy, or else it's his notion of a joke. 
I thought he acted queerly yesterday. He 
seemed amused, and you may be sure I said 
nothing amusing." 

It wasn't at all like Harry to do a thing like 
that. As for his farewell, she didn't take that 
seriouslv. 

Mr. Lannard was promptly informed of the 


34 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


''joke’’ that evening, Muriel’s mother being 
pleased at any opportunity of discrediting the 
young man. 

"It looks perfectly regular,” he said. "Bacon 
is playing a dangerous sort of joke. I’ll see the 
bank about it to-morrow.” 

But the following day more disturbing re¬ 
ports from his factory manager drove the mat¬ 
ter from his mind until his wife telephoned. 

"Hadn’t we better drop it?” he suggested. 
But the fact that he rather liked young Bacon 
and hesitated to get him into trouble only made 
her more insistent. So with some reluctance 
Mr. Lannard went to the bank. 

"This check—” he said, handing it to the 
president. "I’ve come to ask about it.” 

The president glanced at it. 

"What about it?” he asked pleasantly. 

"Do you know the young man ?” 

"Certainly,” responded the banker calmly. 
"The check’s perfectly good.” 

"But—but-” stammered Lannard, now 

greatly agitated. "Has Bacon so much money 



























































































































AN HEIR AT LARGE 35 

that he can afford to give this large sum to 
charity?’’ 

The president looked grave. 

‘‘You understand, Lannard, that I can not 
discuss our clients’ affairs. It is enough to say 
that the check is quite good.” 

Mr. Lannard hurried back to his office and 
telephoned his wife. 

“The bank reports that Bacon’s check is 
good. I’m perfectly amazed!” 

The excitement at the other end of the wire 
was electric. Mrs. Lannard was stunned. It 
was she who proposed that her daughter send 
at once for Mr. Bacon. There had been some 
unbelievable misunderstanding. 

Mr. Lannard departed from his usual cus¬ 
tom of spending the afternoon playing bridge 
at the club and hurried home to find his wife 
and daughter in a highly wrought state of emo¬ 
tion. Muriel was accusing her mother of hav¬ 
ing offended Harry Bacon so outrageously 
that he was practically driven from the house. 

“Nonsense, child! I simply repeated what 


36 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


you have told him yourself—that you had no 
intention of marrying him/’ 

Then turning abruptly she asked: 

“What does it mean, Edward? The bank 
says his check is good. How does it happen 
that he has money enough to give such a large 
sum to charity ?” 

“It’s quite mystifying,” answered Mr. Lan- 
nard. “I talked with Virden, the president of 
the bank. He merely said the check was good, 
but when I tried to get further details he froze 
up. Bank ethics, you know.” 

“Has he been speculating successfully or” 
—here she shot a glance at her daughter—“is 
he in some crooked business ?” 

“Mother! How can you say such a thing? 
You know Harry has never done a thing that 
warrants you in making such an insinua¬ 
tion.” 

Mr. Lannard interposed. 

“He’s evidently all right. Virden’s attitude 
convinced me of that. He’s probably made a 
successful stock deal of some sort, although 



AN HEIR AT LARCxE 37 

where he got the money to margin it is beyond 
me/’ 

“Well, if he got it speculating,” said Mrs. 
Lannard, “he won’t have it long. I’m going 
out now.” 

She paused in the doorway as a thought 
struck her. 

“Perhaps, Muriel, you would feel better if 
you talked with the young man.” 

“But, mother, he won’t come back after the 
way you treated him.” 

“Oh, yes, he will. Blame it on me if you 
wish. Tell him I was suffering from a severe 
headache. I have no doubt he will tell you all 
about his financial windfall—if you go about it 
cleverly.” 

Having planted these suggestions, Mrs. Lan¬ 
nard departed, serene in the belief that Bacon 
would be camped on the door-step when she 
returned. 

Muriel acted quickly. She at once called up 
the office where he was employed. A quiet 
voice reported that Mr. Bacon had resigned 


38 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


two days before and had not been in the of¬ 
fice since. 

At the house where he roomed a less quiet 
voice reported that Mr. Bacon had given up 
his room and had left no forwarding address. 

It was all most mysterious. After an agi¬ 
tated half-hour at the telephone she had ex¬ 
hausted every avenue of communication. He 
had vanished completely. 


CHAPTER III 


This realization brought her a poignant 
sense of loss. Her vanity also suffered. If 
Harry Bacon had been there at that moment 
his suit would have prospered. 

Instead he was seated in the private office 
of one of the trustees of his estate. For sev¬ 
eral days he had spent similar hours being ini¬ 
tiated into the ramifications of what had been 
his uncle’s property. 

While thus engaged he encountered in the 
long list of holdings a name that commanded 
instant attention. 

The Lannard Steel Mills—forty thousand 
shares! 

‘'What’s that?” he exclaimed. 

“Your uncle made considerable investments 
in steel properties,” answered the trustee, “but, 

39 


40 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


with the exception of this holding, all have been 
converted into other securities.” 

''Why did he retain this ?” 

"Since the period of war prosperity it has 
declined so much in market value that he was 
unwilling to sell until better prices prevailed. 
Mr. Lannard formerly gave his personal atten¬ 
tion to the property. Of late he has delegated 
the management to others and has spent his 
time in the city, largely engrossed in social pur¬ 
suits. The property has suffered. There is bit¬ 
ter discontent among his workmen and, conse- 
quently^ constant labor difficulties.” 

"How many shares of stock are there in all ?” 
asked Bacon. 

"One hundred thousand, of which Mr. and 
Mrs. Lannard hold fifty-one thousand, unless 
they have been obliged to let some of them go.” 

Bacon thought for a moment. 

"T wish you would endeavor to get as many 
additional shares as you can,” he said quietly. 
"And do it in a way that my name does not 
appear in the transaction.” 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


41 


‘Tt can be done by the estate/* said the trus¬ 
tee, ^Tut you would do well to avoid getting* 
deeper in a property that is on the down 
grade/* 

‘T believe in steel,** answered Harry, '^and 
the time to buy is when the stock is down. A 
steel company that is well run is bound to pros¬ 
per—or else this country will go broke.** 

Mrs. Lannard observed with alarm that her 
daughter was idealizing the absent Harry 
Bacon as a broken-hearted victim of unre¬ 
quited love. The glamour about that role 
might prove fatal to her own plan of marrying 
her daughter to a title. 

She must solve the mystery of Bacon*s check. 

Finally a newspaper item gave her a clue. 
‘‘Dempsey*s share was three hundred thousand 
dollars.** 

Why, of course! Here was the answer. 
Here also was the means of destroying Murie/s 
romantic fancies. She brought up the subject 
that evening. 


42 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


‘T believe Eve discovered the secret source 
of Mr. Bacon’s surprising check.” 

Muriel was instantly attentive. 

‘'Haven’t I heard you say he was a champion 
pugilist in college?” 

“He was the best boxer—he wasn't a profes¬ 
sional, of course. But why?” 

“Well, I happened to think to-day that pugi¬ 
lists receive very large sums for a single fight.” 
She paused impressively. “I believe Bacon is 
doing professional fighting under an assumed 
name!” 

Muriel gasped. 

“He’s doubtless ashamed,” her mother went 
on, “and knows you would be. So, between 
you and the money to be made prize-fighting” 
—she emphasized the words—“he chose the 
latter.” 

Panic-stricken, Muriel defended her friend. 

“But, mother, that’s an honest way to earn 
money. Some fighters are fine men.” 

“Muriel! It’s a brutal profession.” 

“You were crazy about Carpentier!” 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


43 


^'Ah, he was a gallant Frenchman, with a 
croix de guerre. He was received into society. 
Our American prize-fighters—they are im¬ 
possible 

A flash of fighting spirit rose in the girl. 

^‘Mother, what a snob you are! You think 
everything with a European tag on it is bet¬ 
ter than our own. You would have been a 
royalist when George Washington and his 
army were in rags and tatters-’’ 

^‘Muriel!” remonstrated her father. 

She burst into angry tears and fled from the 
room. 

‘‘Do you really think young Bacon got his 
money that way?’' Mr. Lannard asked his wife. 

“Of course I don’t know,” she said, “but it’s 
a plausible explanation, and, at any rate, it 
will cure Muriel.” 

And she was right. To a girl of Muriel’s 
social standards, being wife of “ ‘Kid’ Bacon, 
the prize-fighter,” as her mother contemptuous¬ 
ly taunted, could not appeal. 

And her mother urged: “You have the great 



44 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


opportunity of becoming a countess of an old 
and distinguished Russian family. Shall it be 
Countess Kolnokoff or Mrs. ^Kid’ Bacon 

Muriel was sick with indecision. She didn't 
love the count, but she was conscious of his 
social charm. A life of idleness in European 
capitals, familiarity with the polite arts of so¬ 
ciety, long experience with women had given 
him the superficial graces which make the 
European of his class superior in love-phrasing 
and love-making to the young American who 
has not made it a study or a pastime. 

Finally, piqued byHarry Bacon's continued 
neglect, and driven by ceaseless maneuvers of 
her mother, Muriel Lannard accepted the pro¬ 
posal of Count Boris Kolnokoff. 

Then followed prolonged ante-nuptial discus¬ 
sions. The count demanded that a certain sum 
be settled upon him, to which proposal Mr. Lan¬ 
nard demurred. He had no ready money. The 
demands of the steel mills had obliged him to 
borrow to the limit of his resources. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


45 

^But I have ten thousand shares of the mill 
stock,” argued his wife. 

^AVe can’t let that get out of our hands!” 
exclaimed Mr. Lannard. ‘^They are necessary 
to our control of the business. We have only 
fifty-one thousand shares—a bare majority.” 

^^But, settled on the count, they would still be 
in the family for voting purposes,” 

''Can’t we persuade him to wait for a settle¬ 
ment till business conditions are better?” he 
asked. 

"I’m afraid not. It’s the European custom, 
you know. We have to conform to it.” 

Mr. Lannard did not answer, but she saw by 
the tightened lips that he would not consent to 
parting with any stock that might jeopardize 
his control of the mills. Meantime Muriel, 
sickened by the sordid commercialism of the 
whole transaction, was a prey to alternating 
fits of depression and flattered vanity. How 
her girl friends would envy the Countess Kol- 
nokoff! And the family relations back in 


46 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Adamant and Somber City, Pennsylvania— 
how impressed they would be! 

Finally the wedding date was set for a time 
some weeks ahead, and to satisfy the count's in¬ 
sistent demands, Mrs. Lannard agreed to turn 
over to him just before the wedding her ten 
thousand shares of Lannard Steel. She ex¬ 
acted his promise that this agreement be kept 
a secret between them until such a time as she 
should later indicate. 

It was more property than the count had 
dreamed of since the “good old days of the 
czar," when a large income came from the toil 
of the patient drudges who worked the family 
estates—estates conferred by Catherine the 
Great on a handsome favorite. 

While the Lannards were struggling with 
the arrangements preliminary to the marriage 
of Muriel Lannard to Count Boris Kolnokoff, 
Harry Bacon had put many leagues between 
himself and that family. 

Before leaving, he gave the manager of his 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


47 


estate a private telegraphic code, as well as cer¬ 
tain explicit directions. 

‘‘Fll probably communicate with you before 
long,’’ he added, ‘Tut do not worry if you don’t 
hear. Meanwhile, try to pick up as much Lan- 
nard Steel as you can.” 

A few hours later he was driving his sec¬ 
ond-hand Ford along the Jersey roads. His 
attire was that of a workman, and included a 
cap and an army shirt. In his coat lapel was a 
service button. 

He carried a sum of money in a wallet, which 
he kept in the inside pocket of his coat. Be¬ 
neath his vest was another and much larger 
sum. 

It was his first move in the plan of action 
which for some time had been revolving in his 
mind. His eyes were glowing as he faced the 
late afternoon sun, and if the slightest ache 
of disappointed love lurked in his heart there 
was no sign of it in his face. The rhythmic 
throb of the motor conduced to reflective¬ 
ness. 


48 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


‘^Here I am,” he thought, “suddenly deluged 
by a huge fortune. Most men unused to money 
are ruined by sudden riches. I wonder if I 
will be an exception? If I lose my head I am 
gone. 

“Many young men in my position would 
start in and get as much action on the money as 
possible—a yacht, a town and country house, 
de luxe automobiles, a racing stable, two or 
three scandals, a few breach of promise suits, 
and wind up with a staggering bill for alimony. 
There would be a thousand greedy vultures on 
my trail. I could never tell who were my real 
friends. I couldn’t marry a girl without fear¬ 
ing it was not me, but my money that she 
wanted. 

“One thing sure, Em going to keep this for¬ 
tune a secret as long as I can. On the other 
hand, my agent would like to see me settle down 
and double the estate. Not for me. Why get 
caught on the treadmill of money making? 
That disease is worse than not having any¬ 
thing.” 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


49 


Ahead of him, walking wearily along the 
road, was a man. Bacon slowed down. 

'Want a ride?’^ he called. 

"Sure,’^ answered the man, climbing in. 
"Eve hiked about a thousand kilometers since 
noon and my 'dogs' are beginning to fret." 

He was somewhat over thirty, shabbily 
dressed, and with trembling hands. 

"Now, if I had a cigarette Ed be happy." 

Bacon produced one, and asked: 

"How far you going?" 

"No particular objective. A man named 
Greeley advised me to go west, and beyond 
that I haven’t plotted out my itinerary." 

"Are you a college professor?" 

The man laughed. 

"Nope. Em what you might call a hobo. 
Em a wayfarer who has lost his way." 

Before Harry could reply the stranger seized 
the initiative. 

"Where are you bound for ?" he asked. 

"Oh, Em out on the trail of a job." 

"Do you always go job hunting in your 


50 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


car?’’ inquired the stranger with exaggerated 
politeness. 

^‘You’re a queer bird,” answered Harry. 
‘‘Are you broke ?” 

“One hundred per cent. If rubles were down 
to a dollar a million, I couldn’t scare up a 
kopeck.” 

They rode on in silence for a time. At length 
Bacon said: 

“I think I can help you if you stick along 
with me.” 

“Thank you, brother. I’m the Le Page 
brothers. I’ll stick.” 

Darkness overtook them as they drove into 
a little town. Running the car into the yard of 
a small, ill-favored hotel, the two men pres¬ 
ently asked for a room. 

The hotel-keeper sized them up suspiciously. 

“Our terms are two dollars—in advance,” 
he announced, unpleasantly. 

Bacon drew out his wallet and extracted two 
one dollar bills from an impressive roll. 

The attitude of the hotel-keeper became in- 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


51 


stantly obsequious. As for the stranger, his 
eyes bulged as he saw the size and color of the 
roll. 

After a miserable meal the two men were 
shown to a double room, where the stranger 
soon was in bed. 

Bacon spent a few moments writing on a slip 
of paper, which he thrust into his wallet. He 
then flung his coat on a chair and was pres¬ 
ently fast asleep. 

The stranger lay awake, staring up into the 
darkness. 


CHAPTER IV 


When Harry Bacon woke up daylight was 
streaming through the window. He looked 
across to the bed whereon the shabby stranger 
had rested the night before. It was empty. 

‘‘Poor devil, I guess the temptation was too 
great for him. Perhaps I was wrong to sub¬ 
ject him to it.’^ 

Leisurely Bacon arose and looked into the 
pocket of his coat where the night before he had 
placed the wallet containing a sum of money 
and a folded slip of paper. 

As he suspected, both were gone. 

That slip of paper was destined to give his 
absent companion food for bitter thought. 

By the dim light in a stuffy east-bound day 
coach he discovered it, and, as he read, his 
amazement grew. 


52 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


S3 


To My Companion of To-day: 

You have made a great mistake in stealing 
my wallet. I hoped you would be strong enough 
to withstand the temptation. It was my way 
of determining whether you had character and 
could be relied upon. I liked you and helped 
you. You repay me with ingratitude and dis¬ 
honesty. They say opportunity knocks at 
every man’s door at least once in a lifetime. 
Opportunity knocked on your door to-day, al¬ 
though you did not know it. There is nothing 
I could not have done for you in a material 
way. But I could not remake your character. 
You now have my money. Keep it and use it as 
you wish, for I shall not endeavor to recover 
it. The fleeting pleasure it gives you will be a 
small return for the golden happiness your 
ingratitude has cost you. 

Yours very truly, 

Harry L. Rasher. 

The shabby stranger, now trembling with a 
curious agitation, read and reread the letter. 
He felt he was dreaming, but as he furtively 
examined the wallet and counted the money 
the reality of the situation was impressed upon 
him. There were the green and yellow bank 


54 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


notes—nearly three hundred dollars in all. Yet 
for some reason the joy of possession was 
gone. ^‘Harry L. Rasher? Harry L. Rash¬ 
er he repeated to himself. ‘Tt sounds vague¬ 
ly familiar. Where have I heard it before?’' 

He stared unseeing out of the car window 
into the blackness as the haunting name ran 
through his thoughts. He groped in his mem¬ 
ory for clues, and it was not until a long time 
had passed that a queer look of enlightenment 
flashed in his eyes. 

‘‘Harry L. Rasher! Haroun-al-Raschid 1” he 
exclaimed. “That’s the name I was reminded 
of. Have I run across a reincarnated Haroun ? 
A man who can calmly let me run off with a 
large sum of money!” 

His heart was full of bitterness. Yes, it was 
just his luck to make a mess of the only good 
chance that had come his way for many 
months. The worst of it was that he could 
not find Rasher to return the money, and, even 
if he did return it, his motives in doing so 
would always have been open to suspicion. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


55 


He reached New York in the forenoon and 
plunged into a reckless round of dissipation 
and forgetfulness. 

Henry Livingston Bacon, now traveling un¬ 
der his newly assumed name of Harry L. 
Rasher, continued westward in his flivver and 
at nightfall entered the town of Adamant, 
Pennsylvania, where he put up at a cheap hotel. 

From his window he looked out upon the 
flaming chimneys of the Lannard Steel Mills 
and heard the subdued roar of the ponderous 
machinery as it worked on through the night. 

Before he went to bed he took out a little 
note-book and wrote down two words: 

Snobbishness. 

Ingratitude. 

Before the latter he put a check mark. 

The next morning he went out to see if 
Adamant was well named. 

He saw a depressing picture. Sodden streets 
and sodden people. A murky pall of smoke 


56 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


hung over the huddled shacks and the grimy 
buildings of the steel plant. Unfamiliar as 
he was with conditions in industrial towns, he 
sensed the absence of enlightened management, 
of conscientious efforts to brighten the living 
conditions of the workers. 

The great mills and the sullen toiling thou¬ 
sands seemed to exist only for the purpose of 
maintaining the dividends necessary to main¬ 
tain the luxurious scale of living of the Lan- 

t 

nard family in New York. 

There was no sense of brotherhood between 
the mills and the workers. 

Industrial strife was inevitable. 

Rasher stopped to talk to a gateman, who 
was only too ready to express himself. 

‘Tt’s a great property,’’ said he, “but they’re 
running it in the ground. Old Lannard don’t 
give his attention to it. A lot of grafting man¬ 
agers run it for him, and there’s no love lost 
between the workers and the plant. Nothing 
but strikes here for months, and if something 
ain’t done to modernize the mills they’ll bu’st. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


57 


Between the bull-headed manager and the 
bunch of labor agitators the mills are on the 
toboggan/’ 

Rasher resolved to discover the grievances 
of the workers, and to do this he must become 
one of them. 

A short time later he was in the ante-room 
of the manager of the plant. A young woman 
at a desk asked his business. 

^T’m looking for a job.” 

.'Tn what department?” 

Rasher was suddenly conscious that she had 
kindly eyes—the first cheerful impression 
he had experienced since arriving in Ada¬ 
mant. 

‘'Any department,” he replied. ‘T’m not a 
skilled steel worker, but I must have work.” 

Her eves rested for an instant on his serv- 
ice button, and after a moment of hesitation 
she said she would ask if the manager, who 
never saw job hunters, would make an excep¬ 
tion in his case. 

“That’s a real girl,” reflected Rasher as he 



58 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


waited. ‘‘How she ever preserved her cheerful¬ 
ness in these surroundings is beyond me.” 

“Em sorry,” she announced, reappearing, 
“but he will not see you.” 

“Don’t they need men here?” he asked. “I 
understood they did.” 

She shrugged her shoulders. 

“Did you tell him Em an ex-service man who 
is willing to work and strong enough to work ?” 

She smiled faintly. “Yes, I did. But he 
said he wouldn’t see you. Em sorry. Perhaps 
if you try one of the foremen-” 

A buzzer sounded, but before she could an¬ 
swer it the manager, a hard-faced man with 
sharp, steely eyes, came out. He shot an ill- 
natured glance at Rasher, and then turned ar¬ 
rogantly to his secretary. 

“I think I told you. Miss Brook, that I am not 
to be disturbed by job hunters. You ought to 
know that by this time.” 

The girl, humiliated, said nothing. 

Ignoring the manager. Rasher spoke to the 
girl; 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


59 


‘T want to thank you for your efforts in my 
behalf. And Fm sorry if I have caused you 
any trouble.’’ 

He turned to go. 

The manager flushed angrily. ‘'Hold on, 
young man. That kind o’ stuff won’t get you 
anywhere if you want to work in this plant.” 

Rasher controlled his temper. ‘T’m a stran¬ 
ger here. I don’t know your rules and I had 
no intention of disregarding them. I wanted a 
job and naturally came to the man who could 
give it to me if he wanted to.” 

The manager paused, his anger suddenly ar¬ 
rested by an idea. “Come into my office,” he 
said shortly. Shutting the door, he continued: 
“You look like an intelligent man, and if you 
are intelligent I can use you. Do you know any¬ 
body here ?” 

“Not a soul.” 

“Are you a union man?” 

“No. I’m not a skilled worker and don’t 
think I could get into a union.” 

“Are you willing to make some money?” 


60 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


“Certainly. That^s what Em after. I want 
a job.^’ 

“I think I can use you if you are willing to 
follow my instructions.’^ 

“What do you want me to do?” 

The manager then outlined the work he 
wished done, while Rasher, boiling inwardly, 
listened without betraying the slightest emo¬ 
tion. 

“You say you don’t know anybody here and 
don’t belong to a union. Good. You will suit 
my purpose exactly if you have sense enough 
to keep your mouth shut and do as I tell you.” 

“I sure want a job,” Rasher answered. 

“All right. This won’t be hard work either. 
All I want you to do is to go round among the 
men and find what they’re talking about. My 
own men are too well known, and, as for get¬ 
ting one of the workmen, I wouldn’t trust ’em. 
They would either double-cross me or else feed 
me on the kind of dope they think I want to 
hear. Besides,” he added bitterly, “they 
wouldn’t stay bought.” 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


61 


His eyes, hard as the steel he had worked 
with, rested for a gloomy moment on the fac¬ 
tory chimneys seen through the window. Sev¬ 
eral were idle. 

‘AVeVe had no end of trouble in this plant. 
There’s a bunch of crooks here that pull a 
strike for no reason at all. They want me to 
hand ’em a bunch of coin. Nothing doing! 
ril fight ’em and I’ll smash ’em!” His fist 
struck the table savagely. *T’ll show ’em who’s 
running this plant!” 

The manager was now talking more to him¬ 
self than to Rasher, who judged that long sus¬ 
tained labor conflicts had so warped his 
thoughts into one groove that he could think of 
nothing else. How else could be explained his 
talkativeness to a stranger ? 

Rasher’s mind was working swiftly. The 
work outlined for him was repugnant, and yet 
for his purposes it might prove to be the one 
thing most desired. It would enable him to 
learn something of both sides and why it was 


62 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


that affairs in this particular steel plant had 
been so badly run. 

The points of view of both employers and 
employees were essential to a fair understand¬ 
ing of the situation. 

As for acting the part of a spy in the work¬ 
ers’ camp, he made a strong mental reserva¬ 
tion. Whatever he did was to be for the ulti¬ 
mate good of both the workers and the plant. 

‘‘As I get it,” he finally said, “you want me 
to mix with the men, get all the dope, and re¬ 
port to you ?” 

“That’s it,” said the manager. “I’ll shift 
you about in the various departments, and, 
mind you, if you try to put anything over on 
me you’ll never want to do it twice.” 

“I’m willing to try it, though I won’t prom¬ 
ise anything.” He emphasized these words. 
“I’m a stranger. They may not talk before 
me.” 

“It will take a little time and,” the manager 
smiled, “a little moonshine. Then they’ll talk 
all right.” 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


63 


It was settled that Rasher should begin work 
as a truck driver. 

‘^You are not to come here with your re¬ 
ports unless I send for you/' said the manager. 
^T’ll arrange to have you deliver them to my 
secretary at her home. You must not be seen 
around here more than necessary." 

He then rang for his secretary. 

^^Miss Brook, this man is to go on as a truck 
driver," he announced. “He will make some 
special reports for me and deliver them at your 
house. Add his name to the pay-roll." 

“What is the name, please?" asked the sec¬ 
retary. 

“Harry L. Rasher." 

The name struck her as vaguely familiar. It 
arrested her attention for a brief instant, after 
which Rasher spelled it out. No, she must be 
mistaken, she thought. She had never seen 
that name before. 

Rasher made a mental note that he would 
take an early occasion to report to her. She 


64 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


was the only ray of sunshine he had yet found 
in the Lannard Steel Mills. 

That night he installed himself in a laborer’s 
boarding-house and the next morning early he 
reported for work. 

Thus he began the role he was to enact in 
the dissension-torn affairs of the plant, a role 
which was destined to reach a dramatic climax. 


CHAPTER V 


Harry L. Rasher_, hair clipped close up to 
the top of his head, where a heavy black thatch 
remained, began as a truck driver in the Lan- 
nard steel mills. His work took him to the 
various departments of the plant and at times 
across the river to Somber City and its coal 
yards. 

At night, dog tired, he returned to a laborer’s 
boarding-house. In common with the other 
day workers, a lunch was put up for him each 
morning by an over-worked harassed landlady 
in whom, for some strange reason, the milk of 
human kindness had not entirely soured. 

Three of his fellow boarders were Ameri¬ 
cans, the rest were of various races broadly 
classified as ^'hunkies.” The latter spoke little 
or no English. They appeared at their meals, 
silent and tired, and then disappeared to bed or 

6S 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


66 . 

to their twelve-hour night shift. An air of 

sullen resignation marked them at all times. In 
» 

their eyes Rasher could see no trace of sunlight. 

By degrees he became acquainted with those 
who spoke English. He noticed that they did 
not inquire into his past. The fact that he had 
arrived in town in a battered Ford, which he 
later sold for eighty-five dollars, was particu¬ 
larly a matter not to be closely inquired into! 

He himself talked little, until he had ac¬ 
quired some of the tricks of language common 
to his associates, and thus avoided emphasizing 
the superiority of his education. 

The knowledge that he could quit at any 
moment and go back to the refinements and 
luxuries of civilization made it possible for him 
to endure with cheerfulness what others en¬ 
dured resentfully from grim necessity. 

During the brief times of leisure between 
work and sleep he frequented a smoky, ill¬ 
smelling pooLroom. Here, stimulated by poi¬ 
sonous mixtures, fhe men talked, and Rasher 
began to learn something of their grievances. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


67 


He contrasted their lot with that of the Lan- 
nards in New York, negotiating for a title for 
their daughter. No wonder they did not live 
in Adamant, where the sights would tend to 
cloud their gaiety! 

After Rasher had been at work for two 
weeks he addressed in a scrawly, feminine hand 
a number of soiled envelopes, which he sent to 
the trustee of his estate. ‘When you communi¬ 
cate with me, use one of these,’’ he instructed, 
and asked for a full account of the next di¬ 
rectors’ meeting of the Lannard Steel Com¬ 
pany. Mr. Lannard had been informed that 
the forty thousand shares, although left to a 
relative in the West, would continue to be voted 
by the trustee, as formerly—an arrangement 
that was satisfactory to him. 

At the end of his third week Harry L. 
Rasher wrote his first report for James Stabb, 
manager of the mills, and took it one evening 
to the home of his secretary. Miss Brook. 

The house was an old-fashioned brick one, 
up on the hill overlooking the great mills. 



68 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


which sprawled, black and grimy, along the 
river's edge. Bordering the brick walk, under 
venerable trees now bare of leaves, were the 
remnants of flower beds which were doubtless 
cheerful patches of color in summer. The 
place bore the look of faded gentility common 
to old houses whose original occupants have 
been replaced by others in much more moderate 
circumstances. 

He was admitted by a sweet-faced elderly 
woman with tired eyes and shown into the par¬ 
lor. The furniture dated back many years, the 
carpets were worn but clean, and a fresh neat¬ 
ness marked the simple white curtains. Two 
old-fashioned family portraits hung on the wall. 
As Rasher waited he was conscious of a keen 
eagerness to see again the girl whose face had 
struck him as being the one ray of sunshine m 
the entire steel plant. 

A photograph on the mantel arrested Rash¬ 
er's attention. It was one of Mrs. Lannard 
evidently taken years ago. He was regarding 
it curiously when Miss Brook came in. 


AN HEIR AT.LARGE 


69 


As she recognized him her eyes lost their 
friendliness. 

As he handed her his report she made no 
effort to disguise her contempt, and in the 
strained silence that followed he realized that 
he was not expected to prolong his stay. Em¬ 
barrassed and ashamed, he awkwardly with¬ 
drew. 

From the disappointment he now felt, he 
realized how eagerly he had looked forward to 
seeing her—how much the prospect of associa¬ 
tion with her had influenced him in undertak¬ 
ing the distasteful work of a spy among the 
workmen. Even the consciousness that this 
work was designed to help clear the troubled 
atmosphere in the relations between employers 
and employed did not lessen his present humili¬ 
ation. 

Perhaps the manager's secretary felt a little 
of the same disappointment. She had hoped 
better things of this young man with the hon¬ 
est-appearing face. 

For a long time she sat before her window. 


70 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


looking down on the sprawling mills along the 
river's edge, the huddled shacks that crouched 
on the slopes, and reflecting on the discontent 
and ill-feeling that had grown so strong among 
the Lannard Steel employees. Why, she won¬ 
dered, could not masters and men live and work 
together in peace and harmony instead of poi¬ 
soning their lives with strife and hatred? Who 
was at fault? The ones who ordered or the 
ones who obeyed? Oh, that some one could 
find the magic cure for this distressing sore 
that was slowly and surely killing the Lannard 
Mills! 

Next morning she delivered Rasher's un¬ 
opened envelope to the manager and was re¬ 
quested to put it in typewritten form. As she 
read the report her astonishment grew. 

“Dear Sir: I herewith submit my report. In 
the three weeks during which I have collected 
the material from which I draw these conclu¬ 
sions I have talked with men in every depart¬ 
ment. These conversations convince me that 
the essential obstacle to harmony in the plant 
is the deep hostility the workers feel toward 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


71 


you. They regard your attitude as narrow, 
unsympathetic, and .overbearing. They quote 
so many instances to support this belief that 
I could not escape, if I wished, the conviction 
that their grievances are well founded. Any¬ 
thing they want you are against. 

'Tt would seem that a friendlier and more 
tolerant attitude on your part would cure most 
of the difficulties. ‘Your entire code, as they see 
it, is one of unyielding domination; your own 
watchword is 'Smash ’em!’ They regard your 
tactics as old-fashioned—not belonging to these 
times. My impression is that harmony in these 
mills can never be secured as long as you and 
your theories of management are in control. 
I have not heard a good word spoken of you 
in three weeks. They consider this plant the 
worst managed of any they have worked in. 

"Respectfully submitted, 

"Harry L. Rasher.’" 

It was some minutes before Miss Brook re¬ 
covered from her surprise. The report put 
into words so many things she had longed to 
say herself, but dared not. It revived at once 
her respect for and a very keen interest in the 
young man whose name reminded her so much 
of Haroun-al-Raschid. Who was he, that he 


\ 


72 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


could write a report indicative of education and 
unusual boldness ? 

She laid the typewritten sheets before Mr. 
Stabb and retired in anticipation of a storm. 
As she expected the buzzer soon rasped im¬ 
patiently. 

She was startled by the surging wrath in 
the manager’s face. Bloodshot eyes and purple 
veins swollen to bursting! His hands were 
clutching and unclutching in a frenzy of rage. 

‘‘Send for this man!” he shouted. 

Miss Brook left hastily to execute his order. 
She was happier than she had been for months. 

Rasher appeared in course of time; his ex¬ 
pression, naturally pleasant, became very 
cheerful when he observed the renewed friend¬ 
liness in her eyes. 

“The manager wishes to see you,” she said 
in a tone that carried “good luck to you.” And 
then she did a thing that surprised her when 
she afterward thought of it. 

“Be careful! I’m afraid he’s very angry,” 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 73 

she cautioned as he serenely walked into the 
lion^s den. And as he did so Miss Brook was 
suddenly aware of a distinct interest in him. 
In spite of her warning, he had betrayed no 
anxiety. Presently he would come out, pale 
and terrified, as she had seen so many others. 
She had something of the feeling of one who 
watches a Christian martyr going in among the 
lions. 

Rasher closed the door and stood before the 
manager. 

^^You sent for me, sir?’’ 

The manager glanced up and then resumed 
working. It was part of his strategy to keep 
his victims waiting. Ten minutes usually re¬ 
duced the stoutest to a state of nervous panic. 
But when, at the end of this time. Rasher’s 
face continued serene the manager’s smolder¬ 
ing anger exploded. He snatched up a type¬ 
written page and waved it menacingly at the 
young man. 

''You damned ungrateful pup! What 'do 


74 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


you mean by sending me this insulting report 
He smashed the desk with his fist. ‘‘That’s 
what I get for hiring one of you crooks.” 

Rasher started to speak. 

“Don’t deny it!” shouted Stabb. “I’ve got 
your number. I know you came here in an auto 
and sold it for eighty-five dollars. Don’t tell 
me you didn’t steal it.” 

“I didn’t steal it,” answered Rasher quietly. 

“Rot! What do you think I am ? Of course 
you stole it, and now you lie about it. But I’m 
having you investigated.” Here he shook a 
threatening finger while narrowly watching 
Rasher’s face for the betraying start of guilt. 

But when Rasher showed no signs of guilty 
nervousness the manager concluded he must be 
either a remarkably clever crook or as honest as 
he looked. To Mr. Stabb all men were crooked 
until proved straight. 

He rose and paced angrily back and forth, 
clenching and unclenching his hands. Certain 
features of the case complicated his course of 
action. A subconscious instinct warned him 



“Of course you stole it, and now you He about it.” 












































































































AN HEIR AT LARGE 


75 


against discharging Rasher at once, for Rash¬ 
er s pleasant face and agreeable manners, he 
had learned, had won for him many friends in 
the plant. And, besides, he knew that Rasher^s 
report of his unpopularity was true. 

Consequently it might be poor politics to dis¬ 
charge him without a very good reason. De¬ 
nouncing him as a spy would discredit Rasher 
sufficiently, but also reveal the fact that he, 
Stabb, made a practise of employing spies. He 
could not afford to stir up new depths of resent¬ 
ment among the men. 

These things called for discretion. He must 
—and could—^give them cool judgment. But 
there was another angle of which he could not 
think coolly. Rasher’s report in which the 
manager’s dignity and vanity had been so 
harshly assailed, had been read by Miss Brook, 
in whom he had more than an official interest. 
To tolerate this criticism would, he thought, 
weaken him in the esteem of that young 
lady. He turned savagely toward the serene 
Rasher. 


76 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


“Well, what are you standing there for? 
What have you got to say for yourself 

“You wanted me to report what the men 
were saying. Eve tried to do that—leaving out 
the profanity.” 

Mr. Stabb’s eyes narrowed. 

“You talk as though you agreed with them!” 

“Absolutely!” 

“What! Why, you infernal whelp! Do 
you realize what you're saying?” He strode 
threateningly toward Rasher. 

“Mr. Stabb, in the half-hour Eve been here 
you've demonstrated the truth of every state¬ 
ment in the report. 

“Your display of temper toward me, an em¬ 
ployee, explains their hostility. You ask me to 
do the dirty work of a spy among them and 
then curse me for honestly reporting what I 
hear. That proves you are narrow and over¬ 
bearing. You try to frighten me. That shows 
you are domineering. You call me a thief and 
a liar without giving me a chance to defend my¬ 
self. That shows you are unjust.” 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


77 


Mr. Stabb glared. 'T didn’t say you stole 
the car. I said I thought you stole it—and I 
do.” 

‘'You said I stole it, Mr. Stabb.” 

“What! You mean to say I lie!” His 
voice was raised to a pitch. He saw red. 
Never in his experience had he been talked to 
like this. With an oath he rushed at Rasher 
and swung heavily at him. 

The next instant he was on the floor, his 
senses dazed. Confusedly he saw Rasher 
standing, unruffled, a few feet away, and heard 
his calm voice: 

“Will you want me any more to-day, Mr. 
Stabb?” 

The latter, before whose anger men had 
trembled, arose slowly and sank into a chair. 
He was breathing heavily. Something inside 
of him had broken—something that was not 
physical. He gazed uncertainly at Rasher, 
who bowed politely and left the room. 

In the outer office Miss Brook’s eyes were 
shining with surprise and relief. 


78 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


‘'Goodness! You’re still smiling! Aren’t 
you discharged?” 

"Fm not sure,” he said, his eyes twinkling. 

That night in his room Harry L. Rasher took 
out his little book and added another word to 
the two already there. He then checked it off: 


Snobbishness. 
X Ingratitude. 
X Arrogance. 


CHAPTER VI 


^^You surprised me/’ said Mary Brook, as 
she and Harry L. Rasher slowly climbed the 
hill road toward her home. ‘T was certain you 
would come out of Mr. Stabb’s office a complete 
wreck. If you knew him as I do, you would 
be surprised, too. He must have been furious 
with you.” 

^^Oh, we had some words. At first he was 
mad, but before I left he had quieted down.” 

^Well, it’s a miracle, that’s all.” She looked 
up into his eyes. ^‘And he didn’t even dis¬ 
charge you ?” 

'To tell the truth. I’m not sure.” With a 
quizzicaj smile he abruptly changed the sub¬ 
ject: "Have you worked here very long?” 

She hesitated a moment before replying. To 
him she was only one of the workers, a cog in a 
big machine, and of course his question was a 
natural one. 


79 


80 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


‘Hhis is the only place I have ever worked/’ 
she answered. 

‘Ts this vour home?” 

‘T was born here.” 

“But how in the world have you kept your 
cheerfulness—in the face of all this ?” 

He pointed to a row of grimy houses, de- 
pressingly shabby and as colorless as the mud 
in the yards. A few windows had white cur¬ 
tains, making a brave but pitiful fight against 
the squalid surroundings. 

“These people are all my friends,” she said 
simply. 

A shrill whistle sounded in a yard ahead. 
“That’s a signal,” she exclaimed, her eyes 
shining. “Now see what happens.” 

A group of dirty children charged out of a 
gate and, farther ahead, from each gateway, 
other children of assorted sizes came rushing 
out to the sidewalk. They waved their hands 
to Miss Brook. Rasher noted their wide-eyed 
admiration, now somewhat restrained because 
of him. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


81 


‘'These are my friends/’ she said. “They do 
this every morning and every evening.” 

“They must love you.” 

“They would love anybody who treats them 
kindly.” 

“They don’t seem unhappy,” he remarked, 
indicating the smiling faces. 

“That’s because they are children,” Miss 
Brook answered. “It’s natural for children to 
be happy if they are not actually suffering. 
They don’t know any life but this. The little 
ones hardly ever see their fathers, and when 
they do their fathers are too dog tired to feel 
like playing with them.” 

“Why do you stay here?” Rasher asked. 
“Wouldn’t you be happier in more cheerful 
surroundings? You could get a position any 
place.” 

She flushed uncomfortably. She was disap¬ 
pointed that he could ask the question. When 
she answered there was reproof in her tone. 

“Perhaps I may find some happiness in help¬ 
ing these poor children to be happy.” 


82 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


“I’m sorry,” he hastened to say. “I think 
YOU are wonderful, Miss Brook. It’s wonder- 
ful that there are people in the world like you. 
Most people,- Fm afraid, like to get away from 
sights that are unpleasant.’’ 

At that moment the thoughts of both Mary 
Brook and Harry Rasher flashed to the Lan- 
nards, steeped in the luxury of fashionable 
New York life. No sight of drab drudgery 
clouded their happiness. They did not have to 
see the silent files of men going or returning 
from their twelve-hour shift in the winter dark¬ 
ness of early morning or evening. 

^^The president of the mills—he doesn’t live 
here, does he?” asked Rasher. 

She had the feeling he had read her thoughts. 

^^No.” 

‘'Does he ever visit the mills ?” 

Again she paused, but attributing his in¬ 
quisitiveness to a natural curiosity, she found 
herself answering without resentment. 

“Very seldom. I think he may be coming 
here before long, however. His daughter, 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


83 

Miss Lannard, is to be married, and before she 
goes abroad the family is to come here for a 
day/’ 

Rasher was staring straight ahead. Many 
questions rushed to his lips, but he forbore voic¬ 
ing them. A procession of memories paraded 
in his thoughts, and it was some time before he 
ventured to speak. 

'Ts she attractive?” he asked, so solemnly 
that Miss Brook burst out laughing. 

‘‘She’s very pretty,” she said, at last. “No 
one can deny that Muriel is pretty.” 

“You know her?” Rasher exclaimed, stop¬ 
ping. 

“Yes, I know her,” she answered, with a 
queer smile. 

Rasher’s walk with Marv Brook was the first 
of many. When his hours of work permitted 
he went with her up the long hill to her gate¬ 
way, where he said good night and turned back 
to his boarding-house with its smell of grease 
and stale tobacco smoke. 

If the secretary to the manager felt a differ- 


84 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


ence in their station she gave no sign. She ac¬ 
cepted him at his face value—a pleasant young 
man about whom there was a glamour of mys¬ 
tery. 

‘'Are you wise in seeing so much of him?’^ 
asked her mother. “You don’t know anything 
about him, do you ?” 

“No, mother, hardly anything, but Em con¬ 
vinced he’s decent and honest. I like him and 
believe in him”—an answer that increased 
rather than allayed her mother’s concern. 

Rasher’s acceptance into the full fellowship 
of friendship came when she asked if he would 
care to go with her to visit some of the poor 
families she was helping. 

“You will see the insides of the lives many 
of these people live,” she said. Together they 
went, and in time he began to share with 
her, though to a lesser degree, their kindly 
regards. 

Mysterious events followed these visits. 

Mrs. Levinsky, distressed to a shadow by the 
illness of one of her seven children, was made 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


85 


happy by an unexpected visit from a strange 
doctor who effected a cure and asked no pay. 

The little Rashky girl, condemned by a tedi¬ 
ous illness to a miserable bed overlooking a 
muddy courtyard, was restored to health by the 
same unknown doctor. 

Old Biskoff, broken down after vears of 
service, was amazed one day to find near his 
door-step a purse containing considerable 
money, the owner of which could not be found. 

Gradually there grew^among the people of 
the mills a curious, half superstitious belief in 
Harry Rasher. By mysterious means which 
baffled understanding his personality became 
invested in their simple minds with strange 
attributes. 

'T)o you know,^’ said Mary Brook one day, 
'‘they are beginning to look upon you as a sym¬ 
bol of good fortune. Why? You never give 
them anything or help them much.’’ 

Rasher shrugged his shoulders. 

'T’d like to do a lot for them—if I could,” he 
answered. "They are so grateful. Mrs. 



86 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Levinsky offered to patch my coat to-day, and 
yesterday when my room rent was overdue the 
landlady whispered that if I was hard up not to 
worry about the rent/^ 

Miss Brook noted the worn coat and her eyes 
softened. It was the only one she had ever 
seen him wear. He must be very poor. She 
had an impulse to supplement Mrs. Levinsky^s 
kind offer, but feared she might wound his 
pride. 

Impressions spread swiftly in a community 
whose interests are bound up in a single con¬ 
cern. Workmen began quietly observing 
Rasher. From their families came queer 
stories about the good luck that followed his 
visits. 

These stories soon reached Mr. Stabb. Ever 
since the day when, his head still swimming 
from the blow Rasher had struck, he had seen 
his secretary and the truck driver go off to¬ 
gether he had nursed a double grievance. That 
he had not discharged the man was something 
he could not explain even to himself. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


87 


Now, however, Mr. Stabb determined to act. 
Rasher must be got out of town before his hold 
upon the imagination of the people became a 
menace. But first he must be discredited, 
humiliated, and stripped of his glamour. Mr. 
Stabb sent for a man who had in the past exe¬ 
cuted many devious commissions for him. 

^'Tony,’^ he said, '^you know this man Rasher 
who drives a truck?’’ 

^^Sure,” answered Tony; ^'he loafs around 
the Popular Pool Room in the evenings. A 
quiet duck.” 

‘Well,” said Mr. Stabb, “there’s something 
queer about him. I don’t know what he’s up 
to, but I believe he’s dangerous. He must be 
run out of town.” 

“What you say goes,” remarked Tony confi¬ 
dently. “That bird will be glad to get out of 
town before I’m through with him.” 


CHAPTER VII 


The morning after Mr. Stabb talked with 
Tony Romisky, a note was thrust into the hand 
of Harry L. Rasher by a boy who ran away 
quickly. 

''Look out big tony romisky say hill get yu 
and chas you outa town. Keep yur eyse open 
tonys a bad man. A friend.’’ 

Rasher studied the note. It was written on 
a soiled piece of wrapping paper and unad¬ 
dressed. Evidently the boy had been told 
where and to whom it must be delivered, for he 
had chosen a time and place where the act was 
unobserved. 

"Well,” thought Rasher; "let’s figure this 
out. Stabb must have sicked Romisky on me. 

' I can’t think of anybody else who has a reason 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


89 


for wanting me run out of town. But why 
Rom i sky 

Romisky was the leader of a considerable ele¬ 
ment of the workmen and was supposed to be a 
bitter foe of the company. He had been pointed 
out to Rasher soon after the latter had begun 
work in the plant. 

‘‘That’s Tony Romisky. He’s the big boss 
among the men. What he says goes. If any¬ 
body disputes him, that guy’s outta luck. No¬ 
body roun’ here gets gay with Tony.” 

Romisky’s word was law, and by domineer¬ 
ing leadership, as well as a powerful physique, 
he compelled obedience to his rule. Rasher had 
often observed the hushed awe his occasional 
appearance produced at the Popular Pool 
Room. He was a big man with a thick neck, 
and when in good humor had a certain robust 
joviality that appealed to his followers. At 
other times, his face was the incarnation of 
brutality. 

By evening Rasher had received three other 
notes in the same vein. He was pleased by the 


90 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


thought that he had friends here who were con¬ 
cerned about him. At his boarding-house a 
fellow workman took him aside. 

‘'Say, I understand Tony Romisky is after 
you. Don't know what for, but I just thought 
I'd tip it off to you. Look out for him. Tony's 
a nasty man to have against you." 

It was Rasher's usual custom to go to the 
Popular Pool Room after supper, for there he 
heard much of the grievances of the men. It 
was their only club-room, thick with cheap 
tobacco smoke, and often noisy with the in¬ 
temperate words of men inflamed by the pro¬ 
prietor's moonshine. But this evening he did 
not go. Instead he wrote a letter to his trustee 
in New York and sent it special delivery. 

“Send at once all information concerning a 
labor leader here named Tony Romisky. His 
name has doubtless come up in the directors' 
meeting of the Lannard Steel Company. Use 
one of the envelopes I sent you." 

The next day while doing his routes with the 
truck as usual, three different men quietly 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


91 


warned him that Tony Romisky was looking 
for him and there was trouble in the air. One 
advised him to go while the going was good. 

'‘You’d better beat it, kid. Take it from me, 
the sooner you go the better it’ll be for you. 
Tony’s a tiger when he’s mad.’’ 

Rasher was peculiarly struck by these suc¬ 
cessive warnings. They indicated the wide¬ 
spread knowledge of Romisky’s purpose. 
Either he had deliberately revealed his inten¬ 
tions in order to intimidate Rasher to flight, or 
else he wished to brand Rasher with the crush¬ 
ing weight of his disfavor, before which no one 
had ever stood for long. His strategy was that 
of the eat with the mouse in its paws—the slow 
torture of mental suffering before the final 
crushing stroke. Obviously he could have 
found him at once had he wished. 

By the third day, wherever he went, he was 
conscious that he was regarded with new inter¬ 
est, and in some faces he saw sympathy. A 
group of women busily gossiping on the side¬ 
walk quieted suddenly as he approached and 


92 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


stood silently regarding him until he had 
passed out of hearing. ' * 

‘'Well, this is calculated to get on a man^s 
nerves V* he thought. “A little more and even 
my morale will be shot full of holes. I sup¬ 
pose everybody is wondering why I haven’t 
taken to the woods.” 

That night a soiled, poorly written envelope, 
postmarked New York, awaited him at the 
boarding-house. 

It was from his trustee. 

By the dim light in his squalid room, Harry 
L. Rasher read the letter from his trustee. 

“Romisky’s name has often come up in di¬ 
rectors’ meetings. Although outwardly the bit¬ 
terest agitator in the mills, he is really one of 
Mr. Stabb’s most trusted henchmen. He is on 
the secret pay-roll as Antonio Robinson and 
his checks are deposited under that name in 
the Titanic Trust Company in this city. His 
double relation with the company has been the 
cause of much dissension in the meetings, as 
several of the directors are bitterly opposed to 
double dealing of this kind. It is only because 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


93 


of Stabb s insistence that Romisky^s services 
are invaluable that he has been retained. 

I do not know what you have in mind, but 
I should be failing” in my duty did I not warn 
you to go slow in controversy with him. He 
is a dangerous man and had a criminal record 
in St. Louis about fifteen years ago, where, if 
I recollect correctly, he was known as Dave 
Ratt snick."' 


Rasher wrote at once requesting that Rom- 
isky's criminal record be traced and reported 
as soon as possible. 

‘‘This bird is going to be sorry he started 
anything.” 

After a while Rasher’s failure to put in his 
usual appearance at the Popular Pool Room 
was attributed to fear. It was recalled that he 
frequently accompanied Miss Brook on her lit¬ 
tle expeditions of helpfulness, and this was now 
interpreted as evidence of softness. 

“He’s only a sissy,” one man said, “chasin’ 
round with a dame and carryin’ baskets!” 

It was not long before the undercurrent of 
comment about Rasher and Romisky reached 


94 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


the ears of Mary Brook. From the women 
came various versions, but all agreed on the 
essential fact that Romisky was for some rea¬ 
son determined to run Harry Rasher out of 
town. 

She knew Tony Romisky. Upon rare occa¬ 
sions he came to the manager’s office. As he 
was the leader of a considerable element in the 
labor party, she assumed that these visits had 
something to do with labor disputes. 

She now recalled that he had been with Mr. 
Stabb only a few days before. He had come 
out smiling. She wondered if that visit had 
anything to do with Rasher, but dismissed the 
idea as unlikely. Had she known what had 
happened in Mr. Stabb’s office when Rasher 
himself had been there three weeks before she 
would have thought differently. 

For several days she had missed the evening 
walk with Rasher up the long hill to her gate. 
Was he afraid to appear on the streets? Or 
had he already left town? The thought dis¬ 
turbed her so much that she could not bear to 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


95 


remain in doubt. A telephone call to his board¬ 
ing-house informed her that he had been there 
at breakfast and that his things were still in his 
room. 

She resolved to send for him. 

That evening all the men not on duty would 
be at a big meeting in an unused movie theater. 
It was a particularly important meeting, called 
by Romisky for the purpose of formulating cer¬ 
tain demands on the company, and intimations 
had gone forth that anybody failing to attend 
for reasons other than work would regret it. 

Under the circumstances Mary Brook rea¬ 
soned that Rasher would not attend, but her 
messenger, a devoted little boy, brought back 
word that he had gone out. She dismissed at 
once the thought of danger to him. With 
Romisky and most of the other unoccupied men 
busy, he could go out safely. So she spent the 
evening with mind at ease. 


CHAPTER VIII 


At the meeting hall five or six hundred men 
had gathered. Romisky was on the platform. 
Dense clouds of tobacco smoke hung over the 
audience. When, finally, the business before 
the meeting had been concluded, Romisky did 
not dismiss them as usual. Instead, he rose to 
speak, and a dead silence followed. 

‘There's a man in this town that don’t be¬ 
long here," he announced, and every one knew 
to whom he referred. “He ain’t one of us. 
He’s a crook and he’s afraid to show his face 
among us honest men.’’ Thus began his speech, 
and as he worked himself into a thunderous 
rage he was suddenly conscious that every eye 
before him had turned and was staring at one 
side of the stage. 

He swung around and beheld Harry L. 
Rasher approaching from the wings. 

96 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


97 


'T understand you are looking for me, Mr. 
Romisky,’' said Rasher. 

The coughing and throat clearing that char¬ 
acterize a crowded theater ceased abruptly. 
Six hundred rough mill-hands stared at the 
stage wild-eyed and rigid, for there before 
them was the promise of tragedy. 

He whom the speaker had just called a cow¬ 
ard, afraid to show himself, was composedly 
facing the big man whose threats against him 
had stirred the town. The inevitable show¬ 
down had come with dramatic suddenness. 

Romisky, his unfinished sentence dead on his 
lips, his hand arrested in its gesture, stared at 
Rasher as though disbelieving his eyes. Then 
the significance of the situation struck him, and 
his mouth tightened in a hard line. This was 
defiance. To tolerate it meant the bending of 
the rod of iron with which he ruled his fol¬ 
lowers. 

''YouVe got a nerve to come here!” he said 
hoarsely. ‘Why, you damned rat, don’t you 
know what’s gonna happen to you?” 


98 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


“That’s what I’ve come to find out,” Rasher 
responded. 

Romisky leveled a blunt finger at him and 
turned to the crowd. 

“This is the dirty crook I’m gonna drive out 
o’ town,” he shouted. “He’s the tool of the 
comp’ny and he’s sneakin’ round here double¬ 
crossin’ us men-” He paused an instant. 

“That sounds pretty good coming from you, 
Robinson,” said Rasher, distinctly emphasizing 
the name Romisky used in his secret checking- 
accounts with Mr. Stabb. 

Romisky’s threatening finger fell suddenly. 
Rasher turned to the audience. 

“When Mr. Romisky, alias Robinson, gets 
through telling you about me, I want to tell you 
a few things about him. Go ahead, Mr. Rom¬ 
isky. That’s fair, isn’t it?” 

There was no sign of anger in his face as he 
tossed his overcoat on a chair, but Romisky 
noted with narrowed eyes that neither was 
there nervousness nor timidity. The reference 
to “Robinson” had been a body blow. Had 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


99 


Stabb double-crossed himf Even so, Rasher 
must not be allowed to tell what he knew. He 
must be beaten up and shipped off before he 
could talk. There seemed no alternative. But 
first he must be saddled with the blame in case 
anything serious happened. Romisky was al¬ 
ready framing a plea of self-defense. 

^‘Say,’’ he exclaimed, “what do you mean 
coming here in a peaceful meeting, trying to in¬ 
sult me? What’s the big idea?” 

“You started the insulting,” said Rasher 
evenly. Again he turned to the crowd. “This 
man says Fm a crook. He can’t prove it be¬ 
cause it isn’t true. I say he's a crook and I can 
prove it.” He pointed at Romisky who was 
struggling to conceal his uneasiness. “Look at 
that guilty face!” 

Romisky rushed at him with an oath. He 
must silence this man if he had to kill him. His 
whole future in the Lannard Mills was at stake. 

Rasher expected the onslaught, and had 
weighed his chances. Romisky, a powerful 
brute, was thirty pounds heavier. In roughing 



) > » 


100 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


it, he would have the advantage. It would be 
like clinching with a grizzly. Rasher knew he 
must avoid that and trust to his greater speed 
and science. 

The crowd swarmed forward. Chairs were 
overturned and crushed as heavy feet battered 
through them. Nobody attempted to climb on 
the stage or wished to interfere with the fight. 

The stage, about twenty feet square, was 
empty save for a table and two chairs. Rom- 
isky^s first mad rush was sidestepped. He 
turned quickly, gauged his distance, and lung¬ 
ing forward, swung a terrific blow. It fell 
short by a few inches. Infuriated to the point 
of murder, he yelled: 

‘Why don’t you fight, you damned coward ?” 

“Don’t worry, Mr. Romisky, alias Robin- 


Romisky saw red. If he could only get his 
hands on Rasher, he’d bend his head back till 
his neck cracked; he’d twist his arms till they 
snapped; he’d choke that throat till the eyes 
popped out! But this was like a bull fighting a 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


101 


panther. A maniac of fury, he rushed to his 
doom. 

What happened was not clear. A chair 
whirled out into the crowd, the table crashed 
over the footlights, a figure leaped, and Rom- 
isky reeled as though struck by a thunder¬ 
bolt. 

Instantly Rasher was upon him, driving blow 
after blow into the swaying face. Then Rom- 
isky’s head shot back, his body lifted on its toes, 
and he crashed to the floor. He tried to rise, 
failed, then fumbled for his pocket. A second 
later Rasher had twisted an automatic from his 
hand. 

Tony Romisky was a sad-looking object. 
Both eyes were black and swollen, his nose was 
bleeding and two front teeth were gone. 
Henceforth the late czar of the Lannard Mills 
would talk with a lisp. 

In silence the crowd saw him regain his feet 
and disappear unsteadily through the wings. 
Then a clamor of voices arose. 

''Wow! What a wallop!” shouted one man 


102 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


above the hubbub and a burst of laughter 
sounded the knell of Romisky’s power. 

‘kSay, kid, you’re all right!” ‘^Atta boy!” 
^^Oh, baby!” 

Rasher was putting on his overcoat. He 
turned and the noise ceased as suddenly as it 
had begun. 

'T hope I haven’t mussed up your program,” 
he said, ^'but I’m not sorry to have mussed up 
your chairman. He got what was coming to 
him. He’s been double-crossing you and 
getting rich at it. He’s on Stabb’s secret pay¬ 
roll under the name of Antonio Robinson. I 
can prove this if anybody doubts. That’s why 
you haven’t been getting anywhere with your 
leader!” 

Romisky’s star had set, and that night Harry 
L. Rasher wrote and crossed off another word 
in his book: 

Snobbishness. 

X Ingratitude. 

X Arrogance. 

X Brutality. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


103 


Early next morning’ nearly everybody in 
Adamant and Somber City had heard of the 
sensational fight. Of course the story grew or 
was distorted in a hundred different ways. 
Romisky’s henchmen tried to start a backfire 
with tales that Rasher had pulled a gun, and 
wore brass knuckles, and had struck without 
warning. These versions led to several more 
fights and very soon Romisky’s men realized 
the futility of circulating them. 

Had the fight been in private, Romisky's 
reputation would have outweighed Rasher’s 
word, but the latter, knowing this, picked a 
time and place where all could see and testify to 
his fairness. 

Romisky did not appear next day, and people 
wondered whether he had fled from Adamant 
or retired until his face regained something of 
its normal appearance. 

Harry L. Rasher, however, drove his truck 
on a triumphant course through the town. In 
a single hour he had won the admiration and 
respect of the mill workers to a degree that he 


104 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


could have attained in no other way than by 
the display of physical prowess. These men 
lived by their muscles, and strength was some¬ 
thing they understood and worshipped. No 
triumph of intellect could have impressed them 
so deeply. Perhaps Rasher had this in mind 
when he staged the dramatic show-down. Al¬ 
ready he had captured their imaginations, now 
their admiration, and he hoped soon to win 
their confidence. 

Miss Mary Brook, walking down the hill 
from her home, was surrounded by an excited 
throng of children. 

^^Have you heard about Mr. Rasher?” they 
cried, and her heart stood still. 

‘‘He had an awful fight!” They were all 
talking at once and from their scrambled ex¬ 
clamations, she could only gather that some¬ 
thing terrible had happened. Seizing the eldest 
boy, she commanded the others to be still. 

“Now, Milko, what happened ? Is he hurt 

“Oh, he had an awful fight. Miss Brook, an’ 
everything! My father said so.’’ 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


105 


''But who fought ? Tell me at once 

"Mr. Romisky and Mr. Rasher. He knocked 
him all over and he couldn’t get up. His teeth 
were all knocked out. It was terrible.” 

Miss Brook was suddenly sick with appre¬ 
hension. 

"The brute!” she exclaimed. 

"An’ he’s beat it,” Milko hurried on, eager 
to give all the details. 'T guess he’s afraid to 
show himself in town any more.” 

So Rasher was gone! The clear cold day 
with the ruddy sunshine filtering through the 
smoke pall became dull for her. It never oc¬ 
curred to her that the slighter, mild-looking 
newcomer, unknown and penniless, would have 
any chance against such a well-known power¬ 
ful bully as Romisky. 

"Did you hear how badly Mr. Rasher was 
hurt, Milko?” she asked in a tired voice. 

"Oh, he wasn’t hurt at all. Miss Brook.” 

"What ? What do you mean ? Mr. Rasher 
wasn’t hurt?” 

"Naw, it was Tony Romisky that was hurt. 


106 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


I just saw Mr. Rasher driving his truck. 
Everybody’s cheering him down-town.” 

The sun burst out and flooded the world. 
And Mary Brook knew that she was in love 
with Harry Rasher. 


CHAPTER IX 


Power, whether for good or evil, always 
commands a following. It is not yielded light¬ 
ly, and the more wicked it is the more unscrupu¬ 
lous will be the methods to retain it. Also the 
longer such power has been exercised by an 
individual or group of men the more extensive 
will abuses become. 

In Adamant and Somber City power had 
long been centered in the hands of James 
Stabb, manager. As time went on and resist¬ 
ance had been beaten down, the methods of 
mill management had grown less and less re¬ 
sponsive to the dictates of common decency and 
progress. 

But as long as he was successful he had his 
supporters, open or secret—men who did not 
care to inquire too closely into his methods as 
long as dividends were maintained—others 

107 


108 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


who found it profitable to participate in the 
various side-issues promoted by him. 

There was the Building and Loan Associa¬ 
tion, devised by Stabb but headed by a local 
banker named Henry Hornblend, whereby 
workmen were induced to invest in a house on 
the installment plan, with the result that they 
could not strike or quit work without seeing the 
meager savings of years wiped out. Few ever 
reached the final payment, and the property 
reverted to the Association. This scheme 
yielded big profits, which were shared by Mr. 
Stabb and his associates. 

Another of Stabb’s creations was a chain of 
local stores from which the workmen were 
obliged to purchase most of their food and^ 
clothing. Healthful competition being thus 
eliminated, prices were arbitrarily fixed by men 
who were decidedly not in business for their 
health. Insiders commonly believed that cer¬ 
tain town officials were beneficiaries in the 
profits of these ventures. Even the local con- 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


109 


gressman, it was whispered, had more than an 
altruistic interest in their welfare. 

This congressman was of a type which is 
happily disappearing. He was a quick and 
ready speaker, a hale fellow well met, a waver 
of the flag, and as devious as a fox. His 
friends, for favors rendered, called him “Hon¬ 
est John’’ Harpy. 

A look into the Honorable Harpy’s safe de¬ 
posit box would have revealed many secrets un¬ 
suspected by his constituents. 

Such conditions could not exist in an enlight¬ 
ened community. But Adamant and Somber 
City were far from being enlightened. James 
Stabb believed enlightenment generated dis¬ 
content. 

Thus it came about that when Harry L. 
Rasher rose above the dead level, following his 
spectacular overthrow of one of the cogs in 
Stabb’s machine, he began to be taken serious¬ 
ly by the higher-ups. 

In response to a telephone call, Mr. Harpy 


110 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


and Mr. Hornblend hurried over to Mr. 
Stabb^s office. When they were seated, Stabb 
began: 

^This man Rasher is getting too much in¬ 
fluence. We must counteract it at once.’’ 

'^Can’t you fire him ?” asked Harpy. 

‘Wes, I can, but I’m not sure that’s the best 
way to destroy his influence with the men. It 
might make him stronger. I should have fired 
him.before this affair with Romisky. Now it’s 
too late. He’s got to be discredited.” 

“What do you know about him ?” 

“Practically nothing except that he turned 
up here some weeks ago in a machine which hte 
sold for eighty-five dollars. I have no doubt 
he stole it.” 

“In that case,” said Harpy, “there should be 
no difficulty. We can get somebody to identify 
the car, and, perhaps, after I have a little talk 
with him he will be glad to leave town.” 

Mr. Hornblend interposed. 

“It’s my experience that men will do almost 
anything for money. Perhaps if I can interest 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


111 


him in some investment he might be induced 
to get in over his head/' 

Mr. Stabb did not seem impressed by this 
proposal. He looked at Hornblend sourly. 

don't care how it's done, just so he goes. 
Romisky's method was evidently wrong." 

'^Can Tony recover his influence?" asked 
Harpy. 

‘^Not while Rasher's around. The workmen 
worship a winner, and six hundred of 'em saw 
him lick Tony. You two know how to handle 
these things, but don't play him for a fool." 

The Honorable Mr. Harpy smiled confi- 
d'ently, and Mr. Hornblend said: 

‘T'll try first. If I can get him into a finan¬ 
cial transaction I know I can land him." 

^'Go to it, old man," replied Harpy, slapping 
him on the back. ‘‘You've landed a lot of 'em 
in your day." 

Hornblend frowned. He knew this was too 
true to be complimentary. 

Henry Hornblend, one of the" local bankers, 
was about sixty years old, and for over forty 


112 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


of these he had given his time and thought to 
money making. It was his only interest in life. 
He never went on vacations, and such pleasure 
as life gave him came from the steady accre¬ 
tion to his fortune. 

A nice profit from an investment was his 
greatest happiness, a loss depressed him for 
weeks. It was seldom, however, that his in¬ 
vestments were attended by losses, for he was 
shrewder than those with whom he dealt, and 
long indulgence in money getting had dulled 
his ethics and stimulated his greed. 

He owned many of the houses occupied by 
the workmen in the Lannard Mills, and there 
was no tender-heartedness in the way he 
handled them. He was one of those who say 
‘^Business is business, and you can’t mix it with 
sentiment.” No one ever accused him of senti¬ 
ment. 

Mr. Hornblend invariably occupied a prom¬ 
inent place on the platform when distinguished 
visitors came to Adamant, but among the 
people he was despised. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


113 


Not without justification he believed in the 
power of money to do almost anything, and 
naturally he turned to it as the weapon with 
which to dispose of Harry L. Rasher. 

One day the latter was surprised to find him¬ 
self being greeted cordially by Mr. Hornblend. 

^Well, young man,’’ exclaimed the money¬ 
lender aflfably, ‘'you are becoming one of our 
well-known citizens. I want to make your ac¬ 
quaintance.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Hornblend.” 

“I think you have quite a future ahead of 
you here, my son, and I hope you will let me 
help you. You’ll be getting married one of 
these days and will want a home. When that 
time comes you must let me advise you.” His 
clammy fingers were massaging Rasher’s hand 
and his thin lips were stretched to what he con¬ 
sidered a fatherlv, benevolent smile. “There’ll 
be no charge. Drop in any time. I can make 
you some money.” 

Mr. Hornblend then pursued his way to the 
bank, rubbing his hands. 


114 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


“Eve planted the seed/’ he thought. 

Two days later Harry L. Rasher received a 
note asking him to call at the bank. Mr. Horn- 
blend, when he received Rasher, was beaming 
with affability. 

“My son,” he said, “since I saw you the other 
day IVe had an idea. You go about among 
the mill-hands a great deal.. I think I can put 
you in the way of making some money without 
interfering with your regular work. Are you 
interested?” 

“Yes, indeed, sir. What is the work you 
want done?” 

“Til explain. I own a good many of the 
houses occupied by the workmen. Tm willing 
to sell them at a certain price and anything you 
can get over that price will be yours. For some 
reason they don’t like to deal with me, but they 
like you and might be induced to go in. I’ll 
make the terms of payment easy.” 

“That sounds fair,” said Rasher, displaying 
a deep interest. 

The banker then brought forth a plat and 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


115 


indicated a number of houses, the prices of 
which he listed on the margin. 

'TVe had no experience in real estate,’’ said 
Rasher, ‘Tut, of course. I’m willing to try. 
Just make out your agreement, with the prices, 
and we’ll sign it” 

Hornblend frowned slightly. “He’s no fool.” 
However, there could be no harm in it, so the 
agreement was drawn up and signed, and wit¬ 
nessed by a clerk. 

“Now,” said Hornblend, in the presence of 
the clerk, “you will probably need a little money 
to pay any expenses you may have in making 
your sales. Entertaining, you know.” He 
winked expressively as he counted out a num¬ 
ber of bills. 

“Oh, no,” demurred Rasher. “If I need any 
I’ll let you know.” He allowed himself to look 
wistfully at the money, a symptom not lost by 
the watchful money-lender. 

All the details of the house-selling campaign 
being settled. Rasher turned to go, and again 
looked hungrily at the bills. 


116 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


'Tt’s working/’ thought Hornblend, rubbing 
his hands with satisfaction. 

Two days later a plainly dressed man got off 
the train, and, with Rasher, was observed to be 
inspecting a number of houses. 

Henry Hornblend, seated at his desk, al¬ 
lowed himself the luxury of a smile. He was 
thinking of young Rasher’s efforts to sell the 
Hornblend lots on commission. 

''At the price Eve set he won’t sell one in a 
thousand years. Pretty soon he’ll come to bor¬ 
row money, and then, if I’m any judge, he’ll 
skip out rather than pay it. That’s the way it 
generally works with these roving mill-hands, 
’specially the ones that are not tied down by a 
family.” 

In view of this conviction, Mr. Hornblend 
was most astonished when Rasher came in a 
couple of days later with the joyous announce¬ 
ment that he had sold a lot. 

"Cash, too!” he exclaimed gleefully. 

"What did you get for it?” asked the money¬ 
lender quickly. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


117 


‘'Fifteen fifty! I make fifty dollars commis¬ 
sion. Pretty good, eh 

Hornblend breathed again. Rasher was not 
making much on the deal, particularly as the 
house and lot were not worth over twelve hun¬ 
dred at the outside. 

“My boy,’' he exclaimed, “I congratulate 
you. I knew you were a clever chap.” 

The deed was prepared and the property 
transferred to a plainly dressed man who 
looked like a workman. 

“I may move here,” said the man. “Any¬ 
way, I think the lot is a good buy.” 

Mr. Hornblend had a momentary pang when 
he received the money and saw Rasher care¬ 
fully fold up fifty dollars for himself. This 
first deal established a precedent. Hornblend 
was now on record as having indorsed the 
working agreement. 

Two days later Rasher burst into the 
banker’s office. 

“Another!” he shouted. 

“What I” exclaimed Hornblend, starting 


118 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


from his chair. One crazy man might buy a 
lot, but surely there were not two crazy men 
who would! 

^‘Yep! And I make eight hundred dollars 
on this one! Ell get rich at this rate, Mr. 
Hornblend.’’ 

The latter’s emotions were stirred to the 
depths. All the avarice and cupidity of his 
nature cried out. In spite of his own enormous 
profit, it was unbearable that Rasher would 
retain so much. A damp perspiration started 
on his forehead. Panic-stricken, he sought 
means to avoid paying this huge commission, 
but there was no way out, the legality of their 
compact having been established by the first 
transaction. With a leaden heart he saw 
Rasher count out the money and pocket his 
eight hundred dollars. 

All that night Mr. Hornblend tossed about, 
and the next morning could not eat his break¬ 
fast. 

But this was just the beginning. 


CHAPTER X 


Rasher^s next transaction was the sale of 
twenty-four houses and lots on the road lead¬ 
ing up from the mill toward Mary Brook’s 
house. He gave Mr. Hornblend in cash the 
amount originally agreed upon between them, 
but would not tell his own share until the lots 
were deeded and transferred. 

made over sixteen thousand dollars on 
them, Mr. Hornblend,” he then confided. 

Sixteen thousand dollars! My God! If 
Mr. Hornblend suffered the other night, this 
one was torture. Sixteen thousand dollars 
lost! What a fool he had been? The fact that 
he was receiving more than the land had ever 
been worth brought him no consolation. 
Somebody else was making too much, and that 
hurt him to the depths of his soul. With each 
throb of his heart an arrow pierced the tender- 
est spot in his make-up—his greed and avarice. 

119 



120 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


When Rasher again appeared with the an¬ 
nouncement that he had found a purchaser for 
the miserable shacks along the river-front 
known as DeviFs Dump, Hornblend was on the 
verge of apoplexy. The fact that Rasher re¬ 
fused to reveal his own share, the amount 
above the agreed purchase price, ate into his 
heart like acid. He was sick with the fear that 
Rasher had made another big amount, and the 
doubt was more deadly than the actual knowl¬ 
edge would have been. 

'TVe cleaned up quite a sum, Mr. Hornblend, 
and I canT thank you enough.^' Rasher offered 
his hand, but Hornblend waved it away with a 
grimace. 

It was soon after that Mr. Hornblend re¬ 
ceived a wire from one of the trustees of the 
Lannard Steel Company. 

^'Must have river frontage known as Deviks 
Dump. Will pay your own price. Answer at 
once.” 

Mr. Hornblend, suffering a stroke, was 
found unconscious at his desk, and that night 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


121 


Harry L. Rasher wrote in his little book an¬ 
other word which he crossed off. 

Snobbishness. 

X Ingratitude. 

X Arrogance. 

X Brutality. 

X Greed. 

James Stabb and the Honorable John Harpy, 
known as Honest John, were seated in the 
former’s office. Stabb’s face was serious. 

^‘John, I don’t mind telling you this man 
Rasher is getting on my nerves.” 

‘‘You’re overworked, Jim. What you need 
is a rest. I’ll take care of him.” 

“Yes, that’s what Romisky said, and see 
what happened! That’s what Hornblend said, 
and now he’s a hopeless invalid eating his heart 
out because some money got away from him.” 

It was on Mr. Stabb’s lips to tell Harpy of his 
own encounter with Rasher—that he had been 
knocked down in his own office—but his pride 
rebelled. Since the incident he had never heard 
mention of it, so he presumed that Rasher, for 


122 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


some reason known only to himself, had never 
told. Instead, he remarked: 

“You know the mill people have the notion 
that there’s something—well, unusual about 
Rasher. They say he brings good luck. Take 
that row of shacks up the street here. The man 
from Pittsburgh who bought ’em from Rasher 

has painted ’em, cleaned up their yards, and 

! 

made ’em fit to live in, and now rented ’em 
again at the same old price. What’s the result ? 
A lot of expense to the company fixing up the 
houses zve own! They attribute all this to him. 
I tell you, John”—Stabb got up and paced 
the room nervously—“I tell you, he’s got my 
goat!” 

“Forget it, Jim. I know how to handle this 
sort of case. Besides, with the money he made 
on those real-estate trades, he’ll probably get 
the swell head and pull out.” 

There was a tap at the door and Miss Brook 
entered. 

“A man to see you, sir.” 

“Who is it?” 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


123 


‘‘Mr. Rasher.” 

Both men started and exchanged significant 
glances which were not lost on Miss Brook. 

“Send him in,” said Stabb shortly. 

Rasher entered. 

“Eve come to resign my job, Mr. Stabb,” he 
announced. 

“What do you mean?” exclaimed the man¬ 
ager, striving to disguise the relief he felt. 
“Why do you come to me with your resigna¬ 
tion? Tell the truck foreman. Good day.” 

“I thought, sir, you might like to know why 
I’m leaving.” 

“Well, why?” 

“Tin going into the grocery business here in 
Adamant. I’ve made some money and I think 
there’s a good opening here for a concern that 
is satisfied with decent profits.” 

“What the—er—what’s that got to do with 
me?” 

“Not much, sir. I just wanted to let you 
know that the Pioneer chain of stores is going 
to have some live competition, that’s all.” 



124 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Rasher bowed pleasantly and went out before 
Stabb got his breath. He swung around to 
Harpy. 

‘'Of all the damned impertinence! Well, 
what do you make of it 

“All bluff! He expects you to buy him off. 
I know the type.^’ Harpy waved his hand ex¬ 
pressively. 

“But, John, competition zvould be bad for our 
stores. Besides, I can't afford to have my con¬ 
nection with the stores become known. It 
would embarrass me with the company." 

“How much money has he ?" 

“I don't suppose more than the twenty or 
twenty-five thousand he made on those land 
sales." 

“Why, you can skin him at his own game. 
Undersell him and break him. Your stores can 
stand the gaff ten times longer than he can." 
John Harpy arose to leave. “Don't give it 
another thought. Just sit tight and watch 
me!" 

Stabb's mind was considerably eased by 

\ 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


125 


Harpy’s confidence. Obviously Rasher was 
trjdng to shake him down for some money. 
The threat to open a competing store must be 
part of a blackmailing scheme. He was there¬ 
fore disagreeably astonished next morning to 
see the following half-page advertisement in 
the Adamant Advertiser: 

‘‘The building at the corner of Mill and Lan- 
nard Streets, formerly occupied by the Elite 
Buffet, will soon be opened as an up-to-date 
grocery and meat market. Cash and carry. 
Eight per cent, profit on all sales. It will be the 
cheapest and best place in town. Watch our 
prices and compare them with the prices you 
have been paying in other local stores. You 
will be surprised. Harry L. Rasher. 

“Proprietor of the ‘Eight Per Cent. Store.’ ” 

Furiously Mr. Stabb called up the editor of 
the Advertiser, 

“Say, Clipper, what do you mean by printing 
that Rasher ad this morning?” 

Mr. Stabb, at his phone, snapped out the 
words that threw the editor of the Adamant 
Advertiser into a panic. 


126 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


''Why—why, Mr. Stabb, I don’t know what 
you mean.” 

"You know all right what I mean. Another 
line of that stuff and your relations with me are 
through. Understand?” 

There was a shocked silence at Mr. Clipper’s 
end of the wire. 

"But I’ve made a contract for twenty 
half-pages!” 

"All right, go ahead! But you know wdiat it 
will cost you!” Stabb banged down the re¬ 
ceiver. 

Clipper gazed blankly at his unfinished edi¬ 
torial on the freedom of the press. Here was a 
crisis in his affairs! Before him lay the con¬ 
tract with Rasher for twenty such advertise¬ 
ments to be run daily at fifty dollars an 
insertion, and, worse, in his pocket was half 
the total amount. He himself had insisted on 
cash in advance. And now this crushing 
threat from Stabb, whose power in the com¬ 
munity he dared not oppose. 

Stabb’s anger convinced him of a fact which 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


127 


up to this time he had only suspected, namely, 
Stabb’s connection with the Pioneer Stores, al¬ 
though the company was on record as oppos¬ 
ing such connections by its employees. 

In an agitated frame of mind, Mr. Clipper 
hurried out only to find that Rasher had left 
town for a few days, leaving no address. This 
compounded the editor’s predicament. He had 
to choose between the complete rupture of good 
relations with Stabb, or become liable for dam¬ 
ages by breaking his contract. 

In his distress he sought the Honorable John 
Harpy. 

“Do?” echoed that gentleman. “Why, noth¬ 
ing, of course. Don’t print the ads.” 

“But won’t I be liable ?” 

“Don’t worry about that,” said Harpy con¬ 
temptuously. “If he wants to go to court, we’ll 
appeal it and appeal it, till he’s drained of his 
last cent in court costs and attorney fees.” 

So the editor, soothed in mind, scrapped the 
Rasher advertisements, and Mr. Stabb smiled 
as he noted their omission. 


CHAPTER XI 


Three days later Rasher returned and at 
once sought Clipper. 

''Why haven't my ads been appearing? 
You've been paid for ten of them." 

"I've decided not to print them," answered 
the editor stiffly. "Your money will be re¬ 
turned." 

"Of course it will, and maybe more, too, if I 
sue vou for violation of contract." 

"You'll have to see my attorney,' John Harpy, 
about that," said Clipper as he turned to his 
desk. 

Rasher gone, he at once called up the Hon¬ 
orable Harpy, who remained unruffled. 

"Let him come. He's trying to shake you 
down for a compromise." Harpy had barely 
hung up his receiver when Rasher entered, and 
stated his case. 


128 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


129 


‘‘And youTe thinking of suing him ?’’ asked 
Harpy, when he had finished. 

“I may. Eve not decided.^^ 

“Ah! Pei-haps you would rather compro¬ 
mise on a cash basis?’’ 

Rasher’s answer was not what he expected. 

“I have no thought of compromising.” 

Harpy was puzzled, but kept on smiling 
cynically. 

“My advice to you, son, is to drop it. Your 
grocery venture here is doomed to fail. You 
can’t buck old established concerns like the 
Pioneer Stores.” 

“That’s the company controlled by Mr. 
Stabb?” 

“Oh, no,” hastily exclaimed “Honest John.” 
“Mr. Stabb has no interest in it.” 

“I was led to think he had. However, that 
will be decided if the case comes to trial.” 

Harpy winced at this. He knew Stabb had 
good reason to fear disclosure. But Rasher’s 
next words caused his heart to skip several 
beats. 


130 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


‘^Mr. Stabb perhaps would not like that, any 
more than you would care to have your con¬ 
nection with the steel company itself made 
public/’ 

have no connection with the steel com¬ 
pany,” he said harshly, and pointed to the door. 
‘‘Now you get out of here.” 

Rasher arose. “I was under the impression 
that you received a substantial sum from the 
company when you supported a certain bill af¬ 
fecting their interests that came up in Congress 
a few years ago. In May, 1913, to be exact. 
Perhaps Pm mistaken.” He then departed, 
bowing pleasantly. 

Harpy’s forehead was damp and cold. 
Rasher was not mistaken. P)Ut how in the 
name of God did he know? Only the inner¬ 
most circles of the company knew, and it was 
as much to their interest as to his that a finan¬ 
cial transaction of this kind be kept secret. 

Suddenly a gleam of light struck him. 

Mary Brook, secretary to James Stabb, hav- 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


131 


ing typed the morning’s dictation, laid the let¬ 
ters before him. 

‘‘Just a moment, Miss Brook.” He seemed in 
an amiable mood, unusual for him these days. 
“You have been seeing something of this young 
man Rasher, haven’t you?” 

“Why, yes, sir. He has helped me several 
times in my visits to some of the poor fami¬ 
lies.” 

“What do you think of him?” Mr. Stabb 
was idly balancing a tortoise shell paper knife 
on his finger, a habit of his lighter moods. 
“Or rather, what do you know about him ?” 

“Why, Mr. Stabb, I hardly know what to 
say. He seems very nice, but he never talks 
about himself. I really know nothing.” 

“Not even where he comes from or what he 
has worked at before?” 

“I’ve inferred that he has lived in New York, 
but as he has never volunteered any confi¬ 
dences, I have never asked any questions.” 

Mr. Stabb nodded and indicated a chair. 

“Please sit down. Miss Brook. You always 


132 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


treat me so formally. As you must know, I 
have your interests very much at heart, and at 
the risk of seeming to concern myself too much 
with your personal affairs I feel that I should 
warn you about Rasher.'' 

She had not taken the chair, and there were 
danger signals in her eyes. He knew he must 
proceed circumspectly. 

'‘Since he has become conspicuous here we 
have tried in vain to find out about him. He 
makes a point of avoiding all references to the 
past. His name is not in the directory of any 
large city. Why should he maintain secrecy 
about these things unless he has a reason? 
Doesn't it strike you as suspicious?" 

'T have no doubt he would answer questions 
if I asked them." 

"He arrived in an automobile which he sold 
for practically nothing. He has shown the 
skill of a professional fighter. He has made 
some money in a real-estate transaction with 
Mr. Hornblend, and now he threatens to start 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


133 


a grocery store. I believe he desires to be 
bought off by the Pioneer Stores. In other 
words, Pm convincd he is a very clever adven¬ 
turer, if not a dangerous blackmailer. I wish 
you wouldn’t see any more of him—Mary. 
In a way I feel responsible to your mother for 
you.” 

She bit her lip. 

‘Ts that all, Mr. Stabb ?” 

‘‘Now don’t be angry. I am thinking only 
of your own good.” 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stabb. I don’t want to seem 
ungrateful, but—well, I feel that my choice of 
associates is something I must decide for my¬ 
self. I may be mistaken, but Mr. Rasher seems 
like a decent man, and as long as he does noth¬ 
ing to destroy that impression I see no reason 
for declining to see him—that is, if he wants 
to see me.” 

Mr. Stabb noted the polite defiance and his 
lips tightened. 

“Well, really, Miss Brook, I shall hardly 


134 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


know what to do if my secretary continues to 
associate with some one I have reason to dis¬ 
trust. You may go now.'’ 

In the outer office she might have yielded 
to the temptation to cry had not John Harpy 
burst open the door. 

‘^Anybody with Stabb?" he asked harshly. 

She shook her head and he strode into the 
inner office. 

‘'My goodness! What’s up?" thought Mary 
Brook. 

The Honorable John whisked a chair up close 
to the startled manager and spoke in a tense 
whisper. 

“Rasher!" he panted. “Just left my office. 
He knows your connection with the Pioneer 
Stores—threatens to bring it out in a suit 
against the Advertiser for violation of con¬ 
tract." Stabb grasped his arm. “But that's 
not all. He knows about our deal when I was 
fighting that bill in Congress. Even knows the 
date of the payment!" 

Rasher—Rasher—always this man Rasher! 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


135 


All Stabb’s own apprehensions returned ten¬ 
fold at sight of Harpy’s shaken bearing. 

^^But—but how does he know all this?” 

Harpy threw a quick glance toward the door 
and drew closer. 

‘‘Stabb, your secretary’s been blabbing!” 
This was the gleam of light that had struck the 
Honorable John Harpy. 

‘‘Good lord! But she doesn’t know anything 
about the deal in Congress, even though she 
may suspect about the stores.” 

“Well, we’ve got to get rid of her. And 
we’ve got to head off this suit. Tell Clipper 
to print his ads. Anything to keep it out of 
court. Your stores will have to freeze him out 
by undercutting even if you take a loss your¬ 
self.” 

After Harry L. Rasher’s interview, in which 
he disclosed a damaging knowledge of the 
Honorable John Harpy’s activities in Con¬ 
gress, he again disappeared from Adamant for 
several days. 


136 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


This was awkward for Mr. Harpy, who 
spent those days in extreme uneasiness. He 
worried about the possible use Rasher might 
make of this knowledge and the devastating 
effect its disclosure would have upon his career. 
Therefore it was important that he see Rasher 
and adjust matters in order to keep them out of 
court, for even with a friendly judge such a 
trial might bring to the surface many compro¬ 
mising circumstances which he and Mr. Stabb 
preferred to keep secret. 

He saw the editor of the Advertiser and told 
him to print the advertisements for Rasher’s 
grocery venture. 

^T’ve talked with Stabb,” he assured Mr. 
Clipper, ‘'and it’s all right. See Rasher. Make 
any excuse offer him anything.” 

‘T’ll see him to-morrow,” said Clipper, in¬ 
wardly contrasting Harpy’s previous con¬ 
temptuous disposition to ride rough shod over 
Rasher and break him with prolonged and 
costly litigation with his present obvious 
anxiety to placate him. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


137 


‘‘Something has jarred the Honorable John/' 
he thought. 

But “to-morrow" was too late. In the night 
the bill-boards of Adamant and Somber City 
blossomed with bright posters about the new 
Eight Per Cent. Store to open the following 
week, explaining that the Advertiser had re¬ 
fused to print the advertisements of the new 
rival of the “Pioneer Stores, Limited." Hand¬ 
bills in three languages were given to every 
housewife in the two towns and other notices 
came in the mails. 

The Pioneer Stores, long intrenched and 
prosperous, sniffed and scoffed, but kept an 
eye on the old Elite Buffet, which, after two 
years of disuse, still showed no signs of activ¬ 
ity. Nothing short of a miracle could convert 
it into a presentable store within the few days 
remaining before the date of the announced 
opening. 


CHAPTER XII 


Then the miracle happened. 

All the carpenters and plasterers and paint¬ 
ers in the vicinity were rounded up and, night 
and day, in three shifts, they transformed the 
old building into an up-to-date grocery and 
meat market. Eight heavy trucks rolled into 
town, and shelves were weighted with such a 
stock as was never seen in Adamant before. 

A big sign, ‘‘The Eight Per Cent. Store,’’ 
blazoned from above the door. “Cash and 
carry,” “Come in and convince yourself,” “Our 
prices will sell our goods,” “We’re in business 
for profit but not for profiteering,” and many 
other similar placards adorned the windows. 

The day of the opening found the new store 
ready for business, with clerks in clean white 
behind the counters. And prices were astound- 
ingly low—twenty, sometimes fifty, per cent. 

138 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


139 

lower than those the people had been used to 
paying. 

The first day the store was thronged with 
curious visitors. The next day more came to 
buy than to look. 

From across the street the old established 
Pioneer Store watched and was seized with 
panic. Scouts reported the rival’s prices and 
hurried calculations revealed ghastly effects on 
their profits if they cut to meet them. But 
there was no help for it. So they cut and cut. 

‘Tt’s war to the hilt!” they said. 

They began a vigorous campaign of adver¬ 
tising in the two local papers, whose self-inter¬ 
est dictated allegiance to the Pioneer crowd. 
“Patronize home industry!” was the keynote 
of their appeal. “Favorable crop reports en¬ 
able us to reduce our prices. The high cost of 
living is going down!” “We have just received 
a large stock of a bankrupt house and can sell 
it at a price lower than the original cost.” 

In their campaign they were careful not to 
attribute their cuts to the lead set by the Rasher 


140 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


store. That would have been an admission 
that their previous prices had been too high. 
As soon as Rasher had been forced to the wall 
they wanted the road clear for a resumption of 
their old and highly profitable scale of prices. 

Rasher imported a complete printing outfit, 
installed in a truck, and flooded the town with 
hand-bills. He referred to the Pioneer Stores, 
Limited, as the Profiteer Stores, Unlimited, 
and the people, with the recollection of high 
prices fresh in their minds, swarmed to his 
store. The sympathy of the townspeople was 
with him. 

Thus Harry L. Rasher brought an era of 
fair food prices, and in the minds of many the 
belief was strengthened that he possessed 
strange powers that brought them luck. 

This trade war absorbed the interest of 
Adamant and soon spread beyond the limits of 
the local community. 

Certain dramatic features of the conflict at¬ 
tracted the attention of newspaper editors in 
neighboring towns. Articles appeared chron- 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


141 


icling the details. Young Mill Worker Fights 
Powerful Combine/’ ^^Novel Experiment in 
Adamant,” ‘‘The David and Goliath Grocery 
Fight.” 

Harry Rasher watched this expanding circle 
of publicity with uneasiness. For his purposes 
it was essential to conceal his real identity for 
a while longer, and publicity rendered this in¬ 
creasingly difficult, both for himself and for his 
trustee in New York. 

When a photographer for a Pittsburgh paper 
arrived he refused positively to see him. He 
could not yet risk having his picture seen and 
recognized in New York. But the act was 
quickly seized upon as good ammunition by his 
rivals. 

“Why?” they asked significantly. “What’s 
he afraid of?” “Why doesn’t he want his pic¬ 
ture printed ?” 

Rasher volunteered no explanation, and even 
when the editor of the Advertiser, in a moment 
of spirituous uplift, came boldly off his neutral 
perch and insinuated quite crudely that there 


142 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


were doubtless people in other cities on the 
watch for his picture, he remained silent. 

Emboldened, the editor followed with other 
queries charged with poisonous innuendo, and, 
their fear of the lawsuit eclipsed by more im¬ 
mediate troubles, Stabb and Harpy egged 
him on. 

But Rasher’s only concern on this score was 
how it would affect Mary Brook. 

He was determined to remain Harry L. 
Rasher until certain things were accomplished, 
chief of which was the acquisition of ten thou¬ 
sand additional shares of Lannard Steel stock, 
which would give him control of the company. 
His trustee had already increased his holdings 
up to forty-one thousand shares; the Lan^ 
nards held or controlled fifty-one thousand and 
eight thousand were scattered among a group 
of small stockholders. 

Rasher’s position was, of course, strategical¬ 
ly strong. Through his trustee he had legiti¬ 
mate access to all the inner secrets of the steel 
company, which fact would have completely 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


143 


stunned the gjoup of men ranged against him 
in Adamant. They assumed that he was a 
nameless adventurer, who, by a lucky real es¬ 
tate transaction, had acquired certainly not 
more than thirty thousand dollars. With this 
limited capital he could not hope to stand the 
pressure of a cut-rate battle for long. His 
collapse as a competitor, therefore, would be 
a matter of only a few weeks. 

Each day they watched him for signs of dis¬ 
tress or weakening. The cuts had gone below 
cost, but the Eight Per Cent. Store was main¬ 
taining a brave front. Truck loads of fresh 
goods arrived and were sold. If the war occa¬ 
sioned anxiety it was chiefly reflected in the 
faces of the Pioneer party, who, accustomed to 
sure, fat profits, found the daily losses increas¬ 
ingly unpleasant to stomach. 

‘'He can^t stick it out much longer,’^ they re¬ 
assured themselves. “He can’t buck us with¬ 
out bu’sting!” 

One enthralled observer of this unequal war¬ 
fare was Mary Brook, and her heart was filled 


144 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


with compassion for Rasher’s inevitable end. 
In her mind’s eye she saw him, his limited re¬ 
sources exhausted, stripped of his last cent, go 
down in ignominious defeat before the power¬ 
ful combine opposing him. 

She longed to help him, but there was noth¬ 
ing she could contribute except whole-hearted 
sympathy and half-hearted encouragement. 

“You must be terribly overworked,” she 
wrote him in a little note. “Won’t you come 
up and have supper with mother and me and 
forget for an evening the anxieties you must be 
undergoing?” 

Rasher arrived, beaming and care-free. 

“Poor boy!” she thought, “he doesn’t realize 
what he’s up against.” 

She wished she could tell him many things 
which her confidential position in Mr. Stabb’s 
office enabled her to know, but this was con¬ 
trary to her code of honor. 

It was Harry Rasher’s first meal in the house 
of Mary Brook, although he had entered it once 
before when he delivered his first and only re- 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


145 


port for Mr. Stabb. Many times he had come 
with her to the gate, but invariably declined to 
come in. She thought it was because he was 
foolishly sensitive about his working clothes. 

'^At last you have accepted my invitation!'' 
was her greeting. 

She noted that he wore a white soft shirt, but 
his suit was the same one she knew so well. 
His brief moment of prosperity, she thought, 
had little effect on his simplicity of apparel, and 
somehow she liked him better for it. 

They went into the parlor, where again his 
eyes rested on the photograph of Mrs. Lan- 
nard. He remembered that Miss Brook had 
told him she knew Muriel and that the Lan- 
nards had once lived in Adamant before suc¬ 
cess had lured them away to the wider horizons 
of life in the fashionable circles of New York. 

Mrs. Brook greeted him kindly. She was 
nice and old-fashioned in her manner, and, al¬ 
though he was utterly unconscious of it, she 
studied him with the keen appraisal of a mother 
who has a marriageable daughter. 


146 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


“You have given us much to think about 
since vou came to Adamant,” she said. 

^‘IVe found my work here very interesting, 
Mrs. Brook. More interesting than anything 
Tve ever done.’^ 

It was upon Mrs. Brookes lips to question 
him about what he had done before, buc Mary 
had cautioned her not to be inquisitive. “Now 
please, mother,'' she had said, “don't ask ques¬ 
tions. I don't think he likes to talk about him¬ 
self, and you might embarrass him. He never 
asks questions of me." 

So Mrs. Brook merely glanced at the service 
button in his lapel and decided that later she 
could properly comment upon it, and that might 
lead naturally to other phases of his life. 

Supper was served in a cheerfully old-fash¬ 
ioned dining-room. The chairs and sideboard 
were those of fifty years ago. Two time-dark¬ 
ened paintings hung on the walls and several 
prints of a later period. Chintz curtains added 
a gayer note. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


147 


‘‘Well, how is the grocery business?'’ began 
Mary vivaciously. 

Rasher smiled. 

“The people have been very kind," he said. 
And they discussed the pros and cons of the 
situation, including the unaccountable shift in 
the attitude of the Advertiser and its evident 
desire later to avoid a lawsuit over the violation 
of contract. 

With her confidential knowledge of most of 
Mr. Stabb's affairs, Mary was able to explain 
to herself these matters, and she wished with 
her whole heart that she might give him the 
facts, when suddenly she was amazed to find 
her own thoughts being spoken. 

“Mr. Stabb naturally does not want his con¬ 
nections with the Pioneer Stores to become 
known to the directors," Rasher was saying. 
“It might cost him his position. It might come 
out in a trial, so he saw fit to change his 
tactics." 

He resumed eating in order not to embarrass 


148 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Miss Brook by observing her astonishment 
Her face was a study. How in heaven’s name 
did he know? Tier bewilderment grew with 
his next remark. 

^‘Mr. Stabb does not like me, Miss Brook. 
He thinks T am—well, to put it mildly, an ad¬ 
venturer. The fact that I arrived in town in a 
car and sold it at a low price is convincing, in 
his mind, that I stole it.” He smiled amiably 
and looked at Mary. 'T have been afraid that 
my acquaintance with you might embarrass you 
in your work as his secretary.” 

So this was the reason he had avoided the 
development of their friendship! 

''You are very thoughtful, Mr. Rasher,” ex¬ 
claimed Mrs. Brook, who was in her turn puz¬ 
zled by Mary’s behavior. "But you need give 
yourself no concern on that score. No one in 
Adamant would think of doubting Mary.” 

Mary found her voice again. 

"He is right, mother. Mr. Stabb has already 
intimated that my position depends upon my no 
longer seeing Mr. Rasher.” 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


149 


Airs. Brook stared. 

Rasher spoke eagerly: 

^'Well, Aliss Brook, as long as my grocery 
venture survives you need never lack a job T’ 

It struck her that his offer was actuated by 
compassion, even as her encouragement of him 
had been. Her eyes dropped before his, and 
there was silence in the room. 

V 

Harry Rasher walked home from Alary 
Brook's house raging inwardly. 

‘‘So Stabb has been threatening to take her 
job away, has he! Trying to scare her away 
from me!" He glared at the mills sprawled 
far and wide in the town below, at the ruddy 
glare on the smoke clouds, and his eyes finally 
rested on the dark mass wherein was located 
Air. Stabb's office. 

“He'll find that two can play at that game!" 
he thought. “I'll give him a scare he won't 
forget very soon." 


CHAPTER XIII 


That night he wrote a letter to his trustee. 

‘‘At the next meeting of the Lannard steel 
directors I wish you would propose the dismis¬ 
sal of James Stabb as manager of the mills, and 
yote my shares in a block to that end. The 
Lannard holdings can outvote us in a show¬ 
down, but I want the movement for his dis¬ 
missal started for various reasons. First, he is 
secretly, and in defiance of the rules of the 
company, one of the big men in control of the 
Pioneer Stores in Adamant and Somber City. 
He has made a lot of money this way, for the 
stores have maintained a monopoly and have 
robbed the workmen pitifully. Secondly, his 
autocratic methods are the chief cause of the 
labor disturbances which have so seriously in¬ 
terfered with business for the last two years. 
Thirdly, his working agreement with Romisky 
and Congressman Harpy is an evidence that he 
is ready to adopt dishonorable means which a 
decent stockholder can not condone. Make 
your opposition to him so apparent and so 
forceful that the other directors will be im- 

150 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


151 


pressed. The mills can never regain their pros¬ 
perity as long as Stabb controls their opera- 
tion.’^ 

By a strange coincidence a letter from Stabb, 
addressed private and confidential and written 
by his own hand, went out on the same train 
to E. Johnstone Lannard. 

‘‘Dear Mr. Lannard: I am deeply pained to 
be obliged to write this letter. Circumstances 
of policy require me to dismiss Miss Brook, 
who as you know, has been my secretary for 
three years. The information, highly confiden¬ 
tial, which her position has enabled her to ac¬ 
quire, is being used to the detriment of the com¬ 
pany’s affairs. I realize the gravity of this 
charge, and I fear it will not be received kindly 
by you, but I am compelled to make it. Certain 
secrets of our company, known only to those in¬ 
side, are in the possession of the man Rasher, in 
whom she has taken an unaccountable and dan¬ 
gerous interest. I have had occasion to write 
to you before about this man. He is a clever 
adventurer of the type likely to appeal to an 
unsophisticated, unsuspecting girl like Miss 
Brook. And he does not scruple to use the 
information gained from her in various black¬ 
mailing ways. • 


152 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


^Tt would be well if you could arrange to 
come down to the mills, at which time 1 can 
go more fully into this matter. You will appre¬ 
ciate that my action is taken only after serious 
and disturbing thought, and is inspired only by 
consideration of the company's welfare. I hope 
Mrs. Lannard may see the matter in a reason¬ 
able light and will realize that I have nothing 
personal in mind when I ask the dismissal of 
her neice.^’ 

Mr. Lannard read this letter to his wife, ex¬ 
pecting an explosion, but she heard it calmly. 

^Tf Mary has been playing the fool, by all 
means let her go. Eve done my part in trying 
to help her, and if she abuses our confidence 
she deserves no further consideration.’’ 

Thus was the matter dismissed from the 
mind of Mrs. Lannard, for she was more occu¬ 
pied with the details of the approaching mar¬ 
riage of her daughter Muriel to Count Kolno- 
koff. 

'T guess I’ll have to go down to the mills,” 
said Mr. Lannard gloomily. “Things are 
going from bad to worse.” 

His wife’s thoughts came back. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


153 


''Maybe the count would like to see them/' 
she said. "We might make up a party and go 
down in a private car. I positively refuse to 
stay in one of those miserable hotels." 

Mr. Lannard went to his office with rather a 
disagreeable duty to perform. Calling his 
stenographer, he dictated a letter to Mr. Stabb: 

‘'Regarding Miss Brook, you may feel free 
to act as your judgment dictates. If she has 
forfeited your confidence, by all means dis¬ 
charge her. Her aunt, Mrs. Lannard, quite 
agrees with me in this. Personally I confess 
to being surprised that the very high opinion 
you have hitherto so frequently expressed of 
her character and ability has undergone such 
an abrupt change. However, you are on the 
spot and better able to judge than we. You 
have my complete confidence." 

When the manager of the mills received this 
letter he smiled with grim satisfaction, for it 
was a weapon which he thought he could use 
effectively in furthering his purposes. Mr. 
Lannard continued in his letter: 

"I am planning an early visit to the mills, 
and shall bring my wife and daughter and also 


154 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


my daughter's fiance, who desires to familiarize 
himself with the mills, as in future he will have 
a direct interest in their prosperity." 

Having signed this letter, Mr. Lannard pro¬ 
ceeded to the directors' room, where as chair¬ 
man of the board he presided at the meetings 
of that body and where his will invariably pre¬ 
vailed, The holdings of Mr. Lannard, forty- 
one thousand shares, and those of his wife, ten 
thousand shares, constituted a majority of the 
stock and was always voted as a block. 

In addition the forty-one thousand shares of 
the estate of Henry Livingston, lately deceased, 
were voted by Andrew MacFall, the trustee, in 
harmony with the desires of Mr. Lannard. 

In matters of controversy Mr. Lannard's 
views prevailed by at least ninety-two thousand 
shares. The remaining eight thousand shares 
of the company were scattered among smaller 
holders, among whom there had grown a spirit 
of protest, vociferous but impotent. 

Of late this minority group had become in¬ 
creasingly active in its insistence that drastic 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 155 

changes be made in the operating policy of the 
company. 

When Mr. Lannard entered the directors’ 
room the other directors had already as¬ 
sembled. The fact that Mr. MacFall was talk¬ 
ing* earnestly to Mr. Jackson, one of the most 
active of the insurgent group, was passed un¬ 
noticed by the chairman, whose mind was still 
upon the matter of Miss Brook’s dismissal. 

The directors took their accustomed places at 
the long table. The room, rich in its dark 
paneling, looked out over the sky-piercing 
buildings of lower New York, each towered 
pinnacle crowned by floating plumes of steam 
and smoke. 

Immediately after the routine preliminaries 
were disposed of Mr. Jackson, leader of the 
group which Mr. Lannard was accustomed to 
call the recalcitrants, launched out in a spirited 
speech. 

^We’ve just heard the report and the affairs 
of the company show no improvement. At each 
meeting improvement is promised, but it 


156 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


doesn't come. Things are getting worse rather 
than better and my conviction is strengthened 
that something is radically wrong in the man¬ 
agement of the company. 

Mr. Lannard stirred impatiently. ''He^s a 
chronic disturber,*' he thought, “but I suppose 
we’ll have to let^him blow off steam.” With 
this thought he settled back in his chair. Mr. 
Tackson continued: 

“I’m convinced we can expect no improve¬ 
ment under the present management. I don’t 
like to seem a disturbing element in our meet¬ 
ing, but I think it’s time somebody spoke out.” 

He paused belligerently. 

“I’m convinced, gentlemen, that Mr. Stabb is 
not the right man to be managing the steel 
mills.” 

Mr. Lannard glanced from the corner of his 
eye toward the honest face of Andrew MacFall, 
who sat in the seat adjoining, but that gentle¬ 
man, instead of meeting his eye, stared solemn¬ 
ly at the table before him. Sure of support 


AN HEIR AT LARGE ' 157 

from this quarter, he interrupted the indignant 
Jackson. 

‘We know your feeling toward Mr. Stabb, 
Mr. Jackson, but Vm certain I voice the senti¬ 
ment of the majority of our directors when I 
say we have implicit confidence in the discretion 
and ability of Mr. Stabb. I can see no.good in 
prolonging our discussion along these lines. 
Mr. Stabb has our complete confidence.’^ 

As he spoke these words with an air of final¬ 
ity he again glanced at Mr. MacFall for the ex¬ 
pected nod of approval. The latter betrayed no 
sign, but still stared stolidly at the table before 
him. 

“Fm sure Mr. MacFall will agree with me,” 
continued Mr. Lannard, certain of his ground. 

Mr. MacFall’s bushy eyebrows were working 
convulsively, characteristic when his emotions 
were agitated. He cleared his throat and with 
his first words Mr. Lannard felt that a faithful 
prop upon which he leaned had suddenly been 
jerked from beneath him. 


158 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


‘T quite agree with Mr. Jackson/’ said Mr. 
MacFall. 'T have tried to share Mr. Lannard’s 
confidence in Mr. Stabb, but I can do so no 
longer. Em convinced the company can not 
prosper under Mr. Stabb’s management, and at 
the next directors’ meeting, unless something 
is done in the meantime, I shall vote in favor of 
his dismissal.” 

Having tossed his bombshell, Mr. MacFall 
resumed his contemplation of the table. Mr. 
Lannard, white-faced and incredulous, was 
staring at MacFall as though disbelieving his 
senses. 

Harry L. Rasher received from his trustee a 
report of the directors’ meeting of the Lannard 
Steel Company. Andrew MacFall wrote: 

“As you requested, I announced that the Liv¬ 
ingston estate holdings would be voted for the 
removal of Stabb as manager of the mills. Mr. 
Lannard was dumfounded. It is the first time 
his will has been seriously opposed, and, of 
course, he will fight. With his forty-one thou¬ 
sand shares and his wife’s ten thousand shares, 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


159 


constituting a majority of the stock, we can not 
hope to win. He expects to visit the mills with¬ 
in a few days, and I understand Mrs. Lannard 
and Miss Muriel Lannard, accompanied by the 
latter’s fiance. Count Boris Kolnokoff, will 
make the trip with him. The wedding will take 
place soon after they return to this city.” 

So Muriel was coming to Adamant. The 
situation held interesting possibilities and 
Rasher gave many moments to its contempla¬ 
tion. 

Suppose she should see him. She would 
recognize him at once as Henry Livingston 
Bacon, and his pleasant role of Harry L. 
Rasher, the village Haroun-al-Raschid, would 
abruptly end. He was not quite ready to 
abandon the strong strategic advantage his 
alias afforded him. 

There were still many things to do. He 
must work fast. 


CHAPTER XIV 


The next day he went to a bank, known to 
be closely associated with the Pioneer Stores, 
and requested a loan. He had a motive in regis¬ 
tering financial distress. 

‘T have some urgent bills coming due,’’ he 
said, “and if they are not met I shall be serious¬ 
ly embarrassed. I want the money for thirty 
days, and can offer my store and its contents 
as security.” 

The loan was refused, politely but firmly. 
Before noon the Pioneer Stores were discuss¬ 
ing his difficulties. 

“He’s bu’sted,” they agreed. “We’ve frozen 
him out.” 

Mr. Stabb was particularly elated. The 
news of Rasher’s distress reached him quickly, 
as Rasher intended it should. 

160 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


161 


At last things were coming his way. Rasher, 
who had been a thorn in his flesh, was on his 
last legs. A few days more would see his store 
in the hands of the sheriff and the old Pioneer 
outfit would be relieved from a troublesome 
rival. 

With the Lannards’ permission to discharge 
Miss Brook in his pocket, he now felt that he 
controlled the situation. He could compel her 
to give up her association with Rasher, and 
with this in mind he acted immediately. 

''By the way. Miss Brook, your friend 
Rasher is headed for disaster in his grocery 
venture. I understand he’s been trying to 
raise money.” He smiled. "He won’t get a 
cent from any bank in Adamant. In another 
week he’ll be on the street looking for a job.” 

Miss Brook’s eyes flashed. 

"Why do you tell me this?” she asked. 

"I thought you might be interested. You 
used to like him, I believe, and see something 
of him.” 

"I still like him, Mr. Stabb, and”—her voice 


162 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


rushed on—‘T still expect to see something of 
him/’ 

Stabb’s lips tightened. For a brief moment 
their eyes met defiantly. The time had come to 
play his trump card. 

‘‘You understand, Miss Brook, that you shall 
do so at the cost of your position. You are 
aware that we have reason to distrust Rasher, 
and any one associating with him is open to 
the same suspicion. The fact that you are 
Mrs. Lannard’s niece will not save you.” 

There was a tense silence. She was the first 
- to speak. 

“May I use your telephone?” 

And as he nodded she took the instrument 
and called a number. 

“Ed like to speak to Mr. Rasher.” 

Stabb was staring in amazed anger. 

“This is Mary Brook,” she said. “Do you 
remember offering me a position in your 
store?” 

The answer, audible even to Mr. Stabb, came 
quickly: 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


163 


‘T most certainly do. Why? Are you con¬ 
sidering it?” 

'Tf the offer is still open, Fll take it.” 

There was a pause. Rasher was thinking 
fast. 

''The offer is always open for you, Miss 
Brook. Nothing would please me more than 
to have you here. But I hope you realize that 
this venture may not succeed. I don’t want 
you to leave an assured place for one that may 
last only a little while.” He then added a re¬ 
mark that surprised both the listeners. "Mr. 
Stabb will be able to tell you that I am trying 
to raise money and have been turned down by 
the local banks.” 

"Fm willing to take the risk if you-” 

Stabb, pop-eyed, jerked the receiver from her 
ear. 

"Here, here!” he exclaimed. "Think what 
you’re doing. I can’t let you go.” 

"Too late, Mr. Stabb. My mind is made up. 
I leave to-day.” She opened the door. 

A hard light flashed in the manager’s eyes. 



164 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


‘‘Very well, Miss Brook. I trust you will 
not regret this crazy impulse.^’ 

After she had gone he stared at his desk, his 
lips moving. Rasher, Rasher, always this in¬ 
fernal Rasher. 

A spirited and defiant Mary Brook left the 
office of James Stabb. She had voluntarily 
thrown over the best position possible in Ada¬ 
mant because the manager had attempted to 
dictate her choice of friends. She was leaving 
that hotbed of smug greediness to cast her lot 
with the fair-priced grocery venture of Harry 
L. Rasher, even though it seemed foredoomed 
to failure. 

Mary Brook at this moment was tingling 
with the fire of the crusader. But as she hur¬ 
ried along other disquieting thoughts arose to 
cool the fire and retard her steps. Had she 
been forward in offering her services to 
Rasher? Would she be a help or a hindrance 
in his fight? Perhaps his earlier offer of a 
position had been an expression of sympathy 
not to be taken literallv. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


165 


Almost at the door of the Eight Per Cent. 
Store she lost the momentum of her impulse, 
hesitated, halted, and then turned homeward. 

Her mother greeted her with anxious con¬ 
cern. 

‘‘Mary! You’re home early. Are you ill?” 

“No, mother. Eve resigned my place. I’ve 
quit.” 

Mrs. Brook’s heart sank, but, mother 
fashion, she concealed it and restrained a flood 
of questions. She merely said, ‘T’ve suspected 
you were unhappy there,” and put her arm 
around Mary’s shoulder, and in a moment 
Mary was sobbing in her arms. 

“Oh, mother,” she cried, “it all happened so 
suddenly. Mr. Stabb threatened to dismiss 
me if I saw any more of Harry Rasher—said 
Mr. Rasher couldn’t be trusted—and I flared 
right up and quit. I then and there, right be¬ 
fore him, telephoned Mr. Rasher that I would 
take that job in his store that he offered the 
night he was here for dinner. Of course he 
said to come, but on the way I got scared. 


166 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


How can he afford another salary if he is likely 
to fail at any minute ? It might embarrass him 
terribly.’’ 

‘‘You like Harry Rasher, don’t you, Mary?” 

“Yes, I do. Why shouldn’t I ? He’s really 
trying to do some good in this town, first ex¬ 
posing that bully Romisky, and now trying to 
give the people food at decent prices. Good¬ 
ness knows I’d rather work for him for nothing 
than for the men who are trying to ruin him!” 

Her mother patted her hand sympathetically 
and strove to conceal her misgivings. Mary’s 
salary had been their mainstay. Another posi¬ 
tion as good might mean another town and— 
for her—the breaking of all home ties. 

Their evening meal was one of alternating 
forced gaiety and brooding silence. 

Neither was surprised at Harry Rasher’s ap¬ 
pearance soon after, but Mary, apprehensive 
herself, interpreted his cheerful greeting as a 
brave attempt to disguise a sense of impending 
disaster. 

“We were cut off to-day,” he said, “and 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


167 


later you had left. What’s the trouble? Has 
Stabb had the nerve to-” 

‘‘Oh, no, Mr. Rasher. We had no trouble. 
I just decided to leave.” 

“And you’re really going to work for me?” 

“I—I’m afraid you don’t need me, Mr. 
Rasher. I telephoned before I thought. I’m 
sure you won’t be wanting to increase your ex¬ 
penses now.” 

“Why ‘now ?’ ” he asked. 

“But aren’t you—Mr. Stabb said your store 
would surely fail in a week.” 

“By jove! And you left him to come to me 
with that prospect! But”—he looked at her 
searchingly—“but you didn’t turn up. You 
thought better of it, and now you’ve burned 
your bridges-” 

“Mr. Rasher! Please!” Mary leaned for¬ 
ward eagerly. “If I thought I could help the 
least bit, and not be a burden, I’d come instant¬ 
ly.” Then she added hastily, “I—my whole 
sympathy is with the Eight Per Cent. Store in 
this fight.” 




168 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Rasher looked at her thoughtfully. He re¬ 
membered his first impression of her, the only 
bright spot in Adamant. And it took no great 
imagination to perceive that her friendship 
Avith him had caused the break with Stabb. 
With the courage of her ideals, she had been 
willing to exchange an assured place for one on 
a sinking ship—to sink or swim with the side in 
which she believed. 

Mary’s eyes dropped before his steadily 
softening gaze. 

‘‘Miss Brook,” he said, “my venture may not 
succeed. The Pioneer Stores are now selling 
at far below cost, but if I am frozen out they 
will return to their old exorbitant prices. I will 
not sell below cost because, in the first place, it 
isn’t sound economics, and, in the second, I be¬ 
lieve a business is entitled to a fair profit. I 
feel I’m entitled to eight per cent, on capital in¬ 
vested. Their profits have heretofore been 
very unfair. That is what I’ve been fighting 
to correct. It would naturally seem that I must 
fail, but, if you will come, your support and 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


169 


encouragement will be wonderful assets, and if 
you're willing to take a fighting chance-" 

‘^Of course Ell come." 

Mary couldn't help smiling, though she 
wanted to cry at his pathetic optimism. But 
the twinkle in his eye was deep-seated. It 
came from the ineffable glow about his heart, 
stirred by her unselfish friendship—true 
friendship, because she knew nothing of his 
fifteen million dollars. 

Mary Brook’s appearance as an employee in 
the Eight Per Cent. Store caused a flurry of 
comment. Had she left the Lannard Company 
voluntarily or had Stabb discharged her ? 

Most people were only too willing to blame 
the unpopular manager, and Rasher benefited 
by their sympathy. But soon a mysteriously 
inspired rumor spread to the effect that Rasher 
had acted unfairly toward Miss Brook in induc¬ 
ing her to leave a good position for a precari¬ 
ous one with a doomed venture. This soon 

reached Rasher's ears. 

'^They are blaming me for luring you away 



170 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


from a good position/’ he said to her one even¬ 
ing as they walked toward her home. 

She smiled. 

‘Tf Em willing to take the chance, why 
should other people concern themselves?” 

‘'You don’t regret your action ?” he asked. 

“You know I don’t.” She looked up at him 
with unwavering frankness. It seemed a long 
time before he spoke. 

“Even if I should fail to-morrow, you 
wouldn’t regret?” 

“No.” 

“You’re sure?” He was very much in earn¬ 
est, and stopped and looked into her eyes as 
though trying to read the depths of her mind. 
She met his gaze. 

“Yes,” she said, “I’m sure.” 

“I hope you never will, Mary.” With an 
effort he withheld the words at his tongue’s 
end. Not yet, he thought, not yet. He took 
her arm within his, and they resumed their 
way up the hill. There was something in the 



“Even if I should fail to-morrow, you wouldn’t regret?” 






























































' •’ ' 

": 

- ' ■■ . *' 
r^.;"^'v ■ ' 

^'■';v :.V ■' ' 

• V' ' 

'!''.,-.r 


l;'.’ ; 


■ ■ <\ 


1 









AN HEIR AT LARGE 


171 


action that filled her with happiness. Words 
seemed unnecessary. 

A soft breath of spring was in the air, and 
the hills across the valley were purple in the 
twilight. Each was conscious of a sudden 
electric tenseness between them. He laughed 
awkwardly. 

"‘Em glad I came to Adamant,’’ he said. 

‘T often wonder why you came, when there 
are so many more attractive places.” 

‘^The attractive places aren’t always the 
interesting ones. It’s what you do in a place 
that makes it interesting.” 

The tension was relieved and each spoke 
naturally again. 

''You’ve surely done interesting things 
here!” she said. 

"There are still lots of things to be done here. 
First, there’s the question of the store. The 
Pioneer people will continue selling below cost 
until they break me. Then prices will gradu¬ 
ally creep up, and they’ll attribute it to crop 


172 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


failures, or high freight rates or anything con¬ 
venient.'’ 

'Tf the people understood, Em sure they 
would trade with you in spite of the prices. 
They’ve always liked you, and I’m sure they 
sympathize with you in this fight.” 

“You would think so after the way the Pio¬ 
neer people have robbed them. But I have no 
illusions. People will trade where things are 
cheapest, regardless. They will forget that I’m 
trying to help them, and I’ll have to do it in 
spite of them.” There was a touch of bitter¬ 
ness in his voice. Then he laughed. “But 
we’re not broke yet! So please promise not to 
lose heart if things seem to go very badly in the 
next few days.” 

She promised unhesitatingly, although his 
words puzzled her. 

At her gate they lingered, each reluctant to 
part. Down in the town lights were appearing 
in the cottages, and beyond, the dark masses of 
the steel plant arose under lurid smoke clouds. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


173 


The river was a band of silver between the 
hills. 

She was looking down over the valley, the 
ugliness of which was mercifully veiled in soft 
twilight tints. Her lips were parted in a con¬ 
tented smile. A nicer profile than Muriel Lan- 
nard’s, he thought, and a nicer girl, too! 

“What are you thinking about?’' he asked 
softly. 

Her answer startled him. Had it been day¬ 
light his astonishment could not have escaped 
her. 

“I was thinking of my cousin, Muriel Lan- 
nard-” 

“Your cousin! Muriel Lannard your cousin ? 
You never told me-” 

“Why should I? Small cause I have to be 
proud of it! My father was her mother’s 
brother. I’m the poor relation of the family.” 
She was frankly enjoying his surprise. “She’s 
coming in a few days, and I may introduce you. 
Only be careful not to lose your heart to her, 




174 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


for she’s very much engaged. I warn you 
she’s pretty—and can be most attractive when 
she wants to.” 

^When is she coming ?” he asked gravely. 

‘The paper didn’t say. It merely announced 
the coming visit of Mr. and Mrs. Lannard, 
Muriel and her fiance, Count Boris Kolnokoflf 
of the ancient KolnokoE familv of Kichenef. 
He sounds very grand, doesn’t he? Aren’t 
you thrilled?” 

Rasher had not seen the announcement, but 
most of the people in Adamant and Somber 
City had read it with interest. In one house¬ 
hold it was read with excited interest. 

The approaching visit of the Lannards to 
Adamant meant, without doubt, the disclosure 
of Harry L. Rasher’s real identity. 


CHAPTER XV 


From his store window he watched the 
steady stream of thrifty buyers entering the 
Pioneer Stores, across the street, to take advan¬ 
tage of the special sale, at prices below cost, 
and therefore below his prices. He took up the 
telephone and called the rival manager. 

'This is Rasher speaking. I see you're sell¬ 
ing below cost. How long do you propose to 
abstain so nobly from profiteering?” There 
was a dry laugh. 

"Not getting worried, are you ?” 

"That depends on your answer.” 

"Well, Mr. Rasher, since you ask. I'll say 
that we shall sell at any price we please for as 
long as we please. Is that all ?” 

"Still determined to freeze me out?” 

"Don't forget. Rasher, you started this 
fight.” 


175 


176 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


“All right. And don’t you forget that I’ll 

• *1 

Win It. 

‘‘You'll win it! Ha, ha! Where do you get 
that stuff ?" But Rasher did not stop to listen 
to the laughter at the other end of the wire. 

The Pioneer people were still chuckling when 
their attention was caught by a large placard 
that Rasher himself was placing in his window. 
It read: 

“The Eight Per Cent. Store Closes To-night. 
Our prosperous rival across the street is selling 
below cost to freeze us out. We decline to sell 
below cost. Customers have no right to expect 
it. As we can not make a fair profit, we shall 
close— 

BUT 

f 

the minute the Pioneer Stores raise their prices 
above what is fair and reasonable THIS 
STORE WILL REOPEN. THIS IS NOT A 
BLUFF." 

A similar notice was also distributed to every 
home in Adamant, together with a list of com¬ 
parative prices—the Pioneer's original price, 
Rasher's reduced price, and the Pioneer's “be¬ 
low cost" price. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


177 


‘‘Study these prices and see how soon the 
Pioneer people attempt to work back to their 
old scale 

All this had a very disturbing effect on some 
of the Pioneer crowd. 

“Perhaps we’d better buy him off,” they 
urged. 

But James Stabb, the silent partner, read the 
notice with characteristic contempt. 

“Pure bluff,” he said. “Rasher’s bu’sted. 
He can’t open his confounded store again, and 
is trying to hold us up with his damned black¬ 
mailing scheme. I’ll see him in hell before I’d 
offer him a cent. Pay no attention to him. 
Only, be careful not to advance our prices too 
suddenly. Continue the present cut rates for 
two or three days and tell the people we’re tak¬ 
ing a loss on some overstock. Then boost 
them gradually.” 

Three days later the prices were raised above 
cost, and by the end of the week they had edged 
up above Rasher’s scale of what was fair. The 
Pioneer people were giving glib reasons for the 


178 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


advance, and the indignant townspeople real¬ 
ized for the first time the significance to them¬ 
selves of the fight that Rasher had been mak¬ 
ing. 

In many a household sorrow was expressed 
that Rasher had been frozen out. Probably 
many a prayer was uttered in lowly homes, and, 
as though in answer, there came in the night 
the rumbling of heavy trucks to replenish the 
stock of the Eight Per Cent. Store, and bright 
and early Monday morning its doors stood 
open again. 

This entirely unexpected move struck con¬ 
sternation to the hearts of the rival store. His 
confidential agent lost no time in reporting to 
Stabb, who for once found himself shaken. It 
was his habit to make quick decisions and stick 
to them, right or wrong. He was amazed now 
to find himself uncertain and irresolute. He 
took refuge in anger. 

‘Tde’s crazyhe exclaimed. ‘Tde canh keep 
up this opening and shutting his confounded 
place every few days like a Jack-in-the-box! 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


179 


It takes money to play that game, and he hasn^t 
got it/’ 

“But you said he wouldn’t open it this time,” 
protested the agent. 

Stabb glared at him. 

“We’ll have to reduce our prices again,” he 
asserted. “He’s putting us in an awful hole 
with the people.” 

As a result of this conference the Pioneer 
prices were again cut and placards announcing 
the fact were posted. But the people only read 
and laughed, and then went across to the Eight 
Per Cent. Store to buy. Rasher had once more 
assumed in the eyes of the people the symbol¬ 
ism of good luck, and success was assured to his 
store. 

The Pioneer people began gloomily to con¬ 
template certain ruin, no matter what their 
prices, when, suddenly and without any warn¬ 
ing, Rasher closed his store for a second 
time. 

When Rasher closed his store for this second 
time everybody w'as thunderstruck, Mary 


180 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Brook perhaps the most of all. She observed 
him closely. 

“Lm not crazy/’ he said, cheerfully. ‘TBs 
the only way to impress upon the people of this 
town that the Pioneer people are pirates, in¬ 
corrigible profiteers. I may have to go through 
this performance two or three more times be¬ 
fore they are thoroughly convinced.” 

“But the people are all with you,” urged 
Mary. 

“All?” he asked, quickly, looking directly 
into her eyes. 

She blushed furiously. 

“All but the Pioneer people,” she countered, 
smiling. “But, seriously,” she added, “I think 
you owe it to the people who believe in you to 
tell them why you are closing.” 

Rasher agreed, and that evening word was 
spread that he would speak at the old Arcade 
theater the following night. 

A big crowd, among which were over two 
hundred women, assembled to hear him. 

There was no delay. Harry L. Rasher 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


181 


walked out on the stage and stood on the same 
spot where he had fought Tony Romisky a few 
weeks before and crushed him before the 
amazed eyes of six hundred workmen. 

Rasher wasted no words. He said he had 
come to tell the truth about the Pioneer Stores. 
He reviewed their wolfish record up to the time 
he had opened his store and the cut-rate war 
since that had supposedly frozen him out. The 
audience gave him close attention. 

Then he said: “The man behind the Pioneer 
Stores is James Stabb, manager of the Lannard 
Mills.’’ Expressions of indignant surprise 
swept through the audience. “He is the secret 
power, and his connection is in-direct violation 
of the rules of the Lannard Company. He’s de¬ 
ceiving the owners as well as you, the workers. 
Nearlv all the misfortunes and distress in this 

town can be laid directlv at that man’s door.-” 

•/ 

This remark was greeted by a roar of approv¬ 
ing voices. 

“James Stabb is old-fashioned in his ideas. 
Other plants have adopted modern methods in 


182 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


their treatment of employees, but Stabb stub¬ 
bornly clings to his old theories. And what 
are those theories ? He says he doesn’t believe 
in pampering his men. He says his only obli¬ 
gation to the workers is to pay them their 
wages. Their obligation is to do a full day’s 
work, from twelve to fourteen hours. That 
ends it, in his opinion. 

‘^Other great industrial concerns, more en¬ 
lightened than this plant, are trying to promote 
a harmonious relationship with their men. 
They realize that the nation’s greatest need is 
the establishment of a spirit of real cooperation 
between employers and employed. They’re 
trying to improve workhig conditions, make 
sanitation better, make homes more cheerful, 
make good schools that teach children how to 
be good Americans, proud to be Americans, so 
that the working families do not have a blank 
wall to look forward to, but are given a share 
of the sunlight as they go along. 

^‘That is what wise employers are doing, but 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


183 


you see none of it here. And you will have 
none of it as long as James Stabb is here to 
practise his moth-eaten policies and bull-headed 
prejudices. He kills hope!^’ 

As Rasher shouted these last words a burst 
of applause sprang from the crowd. His 
arraignment of Stabb had struck a responsive 
chord. Rasher raised his hand for silence. 

“The president of these mills is coming to 
Adamant next Monday/’ he said in conclusion. 
“Let him know how you feel about James 
Stabb, and if your action results in Stabb’s dis¬ 
missal not only you but the stockholders of this 
plant will have reason to thank God that he’s 
gone.” 

When he concluded a great crowd sur¬ 
rounded him. And that night the matter was 
discussed earnestly in many humble homes. 

In the morning a committee of workmen 
came to see Rasher. They did not indicate 
what program they had decided upon, but they 
asked if he would be their spokesman in any 


184 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


meeting they might arrange with Mr. Lan- 
nard. Rasher assured them of his willingness 
to act, provided no ^Tough stuff” was pulled. 

“Your strength lies in being temperate,” he 
counseled. “Rough stuff will put you at a dis¬ 
advantage and defeat your purpose. Call on 
me if you think I can help.” 

During the ensuing three days the mill fore¬ 
men were conscious of a hushed excitement 
among the men. 

The train on which the Lannards were to 
come was due to arrive at the station at four 
the next afternoon. James Stabb, his fighting 
blood aroused by the report of the Rasher 
speech, determined to go up the line several 
stations and join the Lannard private car for 
the remainder of the journey to Adamant 


CHAPTER XVI 


James Stabb boarded the Lannard private 
car several stations down the line. Rasher’s 
attack worried him and he was now desperately 
eager to get the ear of Mr. Lannard before the 
latter reached Adamant. 

After being introduced to Count Boris Kol- 
nokoff, who was suavely polite, he and Mr. 
Lannard withdrew to a compartment, while the 
count and Mrs. Lannard resumed their seats in 
the observation room. 

‘‘Mr. Stabb seems to be a very forceful man,” 
remarked the count with an amused smile. 

Mrs. Lannard lowered her voice. 

“He’s an odious person. But he is necessary 
and we have to be polite to him.” 

The count smoked thoughtfully, his half 
closed eyes on the receding landscape. Mrs. 
Lannard yawned wearily. 

185 


186 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


“I can’t tell you how I dread this wretched 
inspection trip. It’s so tiresome and depress¬ 
ing, listening to the troubles of other people, 
and if it weren’t a matter of policy I don’t think 
I should ever come again. However, I wanted 
you to see the plant, now that you are a big 
stockholder in it.” 

After a slight pause she continued, a trace of 
nervousness in her voice. 

'T have not yet informed Mr. Lannard of the 
stock transfer. He’s so irritable of late and 
so obstinately opposed to a prenuptial settle¬ 
ment in Lannard Steel stock that it would pre¬ 
cipitate a family crisis to tell him of it now. 
However, I hope he will be reasonable. It was 
my stock and by transferring it to you we are 
still keeping it in the family for all voting pur¬ 
poses.” The count bowed gravely. 

‘T shall regard it as a sacred trust,” he said. 
‘‘You will never regret having signed the trans¬ 
fer.” His eyes lighted. “Do you know what 
happiness you are giving to Muriel and me? 
You are restoring my ancient family estates in 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


187 


Russia, and some day, not too far distant, I be¬ 
lieve, this Russian madness will burn itself out 
and the old families will come into their own 
again. Then you must visit us. You will love 
the old castle. It is very picturesque, a present 
from Catherine the Great to the founder of our 
family. And the peasantry! You will love 
them. They used to be so docile.” 

Mrs. Lannard's eyes glistened. There was 
magic in the words ‘"estates,” “ancient family,” 
“castle,” and “peasantry.” 

At this moment Muriel appeared. She tossed 
a book aside. 

“What a stupid novel!” she cried. “I’d 
rather come out and talk to you. Well, mother, 
what have you and Boris been talking about?” 

Boris, instantly arising, kissed her hand. 

“There is only one thing I talk or think 
about,” he said softly. 

Muriel laughed. “Well, there will soon be a 
lot of other things. You will presently be on 
exhibition in the old home town. People will 
stare at you, committees will follow you with 


I 


188 AN HEIR AT LARGE 

stupid addresses of welcome, you will have to 
shake hands with loads of queer people, and 
you will have to look as though you enjoyed it. 
We always have to pretend it’s perfectly fas¬ 
cinating, sloshing through those wretched 
streets and groping through grimy buildings 
with a lot of sweaty, half naked men staring at 
you.” 

She flung herself into a chair. 

^Tt’s a gay life if you don’t weaken,” she 
cried rather hysterically, and only the practised 
ear of her mother detected the faint catch in 
her voice. ‘T suppose papa and the amiable 
Mr. Stabb are deep in a confab. Mr. Stabb is 
such a lovely gentleman.” 

“Muriel, do be careful,” cautioned her 
mother. 

“But, mother, you know he’s unspeakable. 
You’ve said so yourself ever so often.” 

“Quite true, my dear, but don’t forget that 
he’s very useful to us, too. I don’t know what 
we should do without him. And besides I ex¬ 
pect to marry him to Mary Brook if that be- 



“You will presently be on exhibition in the oW home town 




































































AN HEIR AT LARGE 189 

nighted girl has a grain of sense left. She’s 
been acting the perfect fool of late.” 

Muriel’s eyes sparkled. 

“But you forget, mother, that Mary is in love 
with the truck driver gentleman, Mr. What’s 
His Name.” 

“Perhaps. But that can be cured when I 
have a little talk with her.” 

Mr. Lannard and Mr. Stabb now joined the 
party. 

“Well,” announced the latter briskly, “we’ll 
soon be there. Adamant’s the next stop.” He 
turned to the count, but, somewhat confused as 
to how he should address him, he broadcasted 
his next remarks. “I’ve been telling Mr. Lan¬ 
nard about conditions in the plant. Produc¬ 
tion is going up and conditions are greatly im¬ 
proved. The men are all at work, and except 
for the activity of one or two radical agitators 
. there is complete harmony. This fellow Rasher 
that I’ve been telling Mr. Lannard about is try¬ 
ing to stir up trouble, circulating all kinds of 
lies about me and so on. But I should worry.” 


190 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


He affected a contemptuous laugh which only 
served to emphasize his uneasiness. 

“Rasher ?” exclaimed Muriel. “Why, that's 
the man Mary is interested in." 

Stabb frowned unpleasantly. 

“He's a bad egg. f'm afraid he's exercis¬ 
ing some sort of hypnotic influence upon Miss 
Brook." 

“Leave her to me," said Mrs. Lannard 
crisply. “And Edgar will have a word with the 
young man. If I am not mistaken he will lis¬ 
ten to reason." She rubbed her thumb and 
forefinger together expressively, a foreign 
gesture implying money. 

“Here we are at Adamant,'' said Mr. Stabb 
as the train slowed down. Suddenly the for¬ 
ward door of the car burst open and an excited 
man rushed in and whispered a few agitated 
words to James Stabb, whose face turned a 
ghastly white. 

“Impossible!" exclaimed Stabb hoarsely; 
“they wouldn't dare!" 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


191 


‘‘But they have!'^ whispered the excited 
messenger. “They Ve all laid down their tools 
and are waiting at the station.” 

The Lannards, with Count Kolnokoff, had 
proceeded to the platform and did not witness 
the manager’s agitation. 

A great crowd thronged the approaches to 
the station—men packed together in front, and 
hundreds of women pressing forward on the 
outskirts. A smile of gratified surprise lighted 
Mr. Lannard’s face. He thought they had come 
to welcome him, but as no burst of cheering 
arose he instantly sensed more serious business. 
He hesitated, then turned to wait the appear¬ 
ance of Mr. Stabb. That sea of silent sober 
faces staring at him was appalling. 

A moment later the manager stepped on to 
the platform and a great clamor burst out. 

“Down with James Stabb! Down with 
James Stabb!” 

So that was their game! He turned a sickly 
white, wavered a moment, and then, regaining 


192 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


control of himself, his features became set and 
stony. His eye swept the crowd for a leader. 

'‘Down with Stabb! Down with Stabb 

It was an ominous chant, and Stabb realized 
that now or never he must assert his au¬ 
thority. 

"What does this mean?” he shouted. "Why 
aren’t you at work?” 

"Down with Stabb!” came the resounding 
answer. "We’ll work no more under James 
Stabb!” 

The little group on the platform paused, un¬ 
decided whether to descend or to reenter the 
car. 

"This is no time for weakness!” muttered 
Mr. Lannard. "Follow me!” He descended, 
and beckoned to the chauffeurs of a couple of 
cars that were waiting. 

"Count, you go with the ladies,” he ordered. 
"Drive on through the town. Stabb and I will 
follow.” 

Not a hand was raised against them. The 
car drove slowly up a lane that opened through 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


193 


the mass of people, who, except for their deadly 
chant, might have been carved from stone. 

Stabb, his arms raised threateningly, started 
to speak, but Mr. Lannard restrained him. 

'"Let me do the talking,’’ he said, and stepped 
forward. ‘‘Now, men, what’s the trouble? 
Don’t be afraid to speak out.” 

There was no answer. 

“Who is your leader? Let him come for¬ 
ward.” 

“What are you afraid of?” shouted the in¬ 
furiated Stabb. 

“Shut up!” Lannard commanded. “Well, 
men, I’m ready to hear your grievances. I’ll 
be in town to-day and to-morrow. Go back 
to work, and send your spokesman to see me.” 
With coolness and dignity he walked across to 
the waiting automobile, followed closely by 
Stabb. 

The car threaded its unmolested way out and 
caught up with the other machine, which had 
been halted on the edge of another smaller 
crowd at the intersection of the two main 


194 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


streets, where stood the statue of William Lan- 
nard, founder of the steel plant. 

Across the street like a barrier stood a row 
of men and women, holding a number of ban¬ 
ners, upon which were written phrases in Rus¬ 
sian. There was no hostility in their manner, 
but they were evidently determined that the for¬ 
eign inscriptions should not be ignored nor 
passed with contemptuous indifference. 

The count sat pale and tight-lipped, for the 
inscriptions referred to his checkered past. 
Muriel eyed him doubtfully. Her recent les¬ 
sons in Russian only partly helped to make out 
the meaning. The others gazed blankly. 

After what seemed an age, a voice called 
a command, the barrier parted, and the cars 
were allowed to proceed. They passed swiftly 
between the silent mill buildings, from which 
came no clamor of industry, no drone and 
whir of great machinery. The silence was 
foreboding. 

At the edge of town, and beyond the grim 
faces which had confronted them ever since 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


195 


their arrival in Adamant, the two cars stopped, 
and the men alighted to join the ladies and the 
count. 

^'Well, what does this extraordinary per¬ 
formance mean?’’ exclaimed Mrs. Lannard 
nervously. “Hadn’t we better leave at 
once?” 

“It’s that fellow Rasher’s work!” cried 
Stabb. “I told you he had a personal grudge 
against me, but I didn’t know he could handle 
people like this-” 

“Oh, he’s Mary’s friend, isn’t he?” asked 
Muriel. 

“Why, where is Mary?” interrupted Mrs. 
Lannard. “She usually meets us.” Her face 

hardened. “If she’s helping him-! Have 

her come to the car at once!” 

By a roundabout way the party returned to 
the car, which now stood deserted on a side 
track, where it would remain while they stayed 
in Adamant. An automobile was despatched 
for Miss Brook, and Mrs. Lannard seized the 
first opportunity to question Muriel. 




196 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


''Could you make out those dreadful ban¬ 
ners?’’ 

"I could guess,” answered Muriel in a tired 
voice. "They were about Boris’ past!” 

"Good gracious! Well, don’t allow yourself 
to be influenced by such trash. Besides, you 
must remember that European customs are dif¬ 
ferent. The morals of the high nobility must 
not be judged by our narrow standards.” 

The conversation was interrupted by the ar¬ 
rival of Mary Brook. 




I 


CHAPTER XVII 


Mary Brookes reception in the Lannard pri¬ 
vate car was what she expected—the usual 
condescension from her aunt and from Muriel 
a cousinly kiss in which their cheeks touched 
ever so lightly. 

‘‘Well,” exclaimed Muriel, “you’ve been hav¬ 
ing a romance, I hear! It becomes you, Mary. 
You look positively blooming.” 

Mrs. Lannard interposed. There were 
weightier matters on her mind. 

“Now, Mary, sit down and explain a few 
things. In the first place, I hear you’ve left 
Mr. Stabb’s office. And that you’ve taken up 
with some queer person—er—a—a—truck 
driver or something of that sort.” Her foot 
was tapping nervously. “What have you to 
say ?” 


197 


198 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Mary's eyes flashed and Mrs. Lannard 
shrewdly discerned that this was a new Mary. 
Here was spirit instead of humility. 

^There isn't much to tell, Aunt Isabel. I 
left the company because I couldn't endure Mr. 
Stabb-" 

''Or rather because you liked this—this 
Rasher person. Isn't that nearer the truth ?" 

"I do like him—very much." 

Mrs. Lannard bit her lip. 

"Tell me about him. Who is he, where does 
he come from, who are his people?" 

"His name is Rasher, I think he lived in New 
York for a time, and I haven't the faintest idea 
who his people are." 

"Humph! A pretty mess. He seems to have 
influence with the workers here. A kind of 
bolshevist, isn't he?" 

"The men believe in him. I think he has a 
great deal of influence." 

"Now, Mary, listen. I suppose he likes you 
and would do anything for you. I want you to 
send for him at once. If he has any serious 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 199 

intentions toward you I think he can be useful 
to 

''Oh, aunt, you wouldn't dare!" exclaimed 
Mary. 

"Dare! The idea. Here's a sheet of paper." 

"But, Aunt Isabel, I'm sure he wouldn't 
come." 

"And why?" Exasperated, her voice rose, 
and Mr. Lannard came in. 

"What's the matter ?" he asked, looking from 
one to the other. Then, remembering, he shook 
hands with his niece. 

"Mary is a friend of this Rasher. I've asked 
her to send for him. She declines." 

"But why send for him ?" asked Lannard. 

"Mary says he has influence with the men. 
He might be persuaded to use this influence." 

"Nonsense. I'll have nothing to do with 
him. He's not even employed in the company. 
I've already sent word to some of the older 
employees to send a representative to talk with 
me. 

Mrs. Lannard looked at him steadily for a 


200 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


moment and then left abruptly. In the obser¬ 
vation room she found Count Kolnokoff, deep 
in a chair, gazing gloomily out over the silent 
mill town. Since the episode of the accusing 
banners he had been conscious of a marked 
coolness on the part of Muriel and her father. 
He felt that he must do something to restore 
himself to favor. 

‘^Our niece is here,’’ began Mrs. Lannard. 
'‘She declines to send for this Rasher, who has 
such influence with the men.” 

The count brightened. Here was a chance 
to redeem himself. 

"Isn’t there something I can do?” he asked. 
"If he will not come here, I’ll go to see him. 
I’ve handled many such cases in Russia.” He 
smiled significantly. 

Mrs. Lannard reflected. 

"Perhaps,” she said. "Mr. Lannard refuses 
to see him or have anything to do with him.” 

Mr. Lannard, with Muriel and Mary Brook, 
now joined them. In Mr. Lannard’s hand was 
an open note. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


201 


‘Well/’ he said slowly, ‘T may have to deal 
with Rasher, after all. This note says he has 
been chosen as their spokesman. George,” 
calling the porter, ‘T wish you would bring 
Mr. Rasher here. Miss Brook will tell you 
where he is to be found.” 

During the porter’s absence Mrs. Lannard 
stared rigidly out of the window, deep in 
thought. The count was effusively polite, and 
Muriel and Mary, on a couch, were talking in 
undertones. It was significant that Muriel 
directed the conversation to Mary’s affairs 
and tactfully diverted it from her own. 
Mary thought this strange. It was unlike 
Muriel. 

The porter soon returned, but without 
Rasher. 

‘T shall be glad to talk with you,” wrote 
the latter, “but not in private. If you will indi¬ 
cate a time and place where our meeting may 
be an open one I’ll be only too pleased to meet 
you.” 

Lannard lost his studied calm. His face 


202 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


flushed angrily. Mrs. Lannard spoke sharply 
to her niece. 

'"You must send for him, Mary, at once, and 
see that he comes 

Mary shook her head. ^T can’t do it. Aunt 
Isabel.” 

The count now spoke up. 

"'Let me see him,” he urged. "I may be able 
to manage the affair without Mr. Lannard’s 
help.” 

Lannard shrugged his shoulders, which the 
count accepted as approval. He turned to 
Mary. 

"If you will tell me where he lives. Ell see 
him this evening.” 

She gave him the address, and the count was 
vaguely conscious of an amused gleam in her 
eyes. 

Shortly after eight o’clock Count Kolnokoff 
arrived at Harry Rasher’s boarding-house, 
shrugged his shoulders with disgust, and, after 
a time, was shown up to Mr. Rasher’s room. 
He knocked at the door indicated by the land- 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


203 


lady and was admitted by Rasher in shirt¬ 
sleeves. The count bowed slightly. 

^^You are Mr. Rasher?’^ And when Rasher 
nodded, he folded his gloves neatly, laid his 
cane on the table, and sat down. 

‘T am Count Kolnokoff,^’ he announced, 
pausing for effect. '‘No doubt you know of 
me.’' 

'T have heard you are to marry Miss Lan- 
nard.” 

Kolnokoff bowed stiffly. Rasher’s expres¬ 
sion had remained unmoved, though his 
thoughts were racing. So this was the man 
Muriel had chosen! 

"You wonder at my call,” said the count. 
"I shall come to the point directly. Mr. Lan- 
nard has been informed that you are the spokes¬ 
man for the men. I am here to see if you can 
not be persuaded to use your influence with the 
men to get them back to work.” 

"I don’t doubt your interest. Count, but this 
must be discussed with some one with 
authority.” 


204 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


‘T come with Mr. Lannard’s authority.^’ To 
amplify his importance the count was tempted 
to go further. ‘T also speak as one of the large 
stockholders of the company.’^ And he was 
gratified at Rasher’s startled expression. The 
name of Boris Kolnokoff had certainly never 
appeared on the official list of stockholders. . 

‘‘You—what?” 

“You doubt my word?” exclaimed the count. 

Rasher collected himself. 

“I didn’t mean to express doubt, but I must 
be sure of your authority.” 

“Let me convince you,” and drawing from an 
inner pocket a large, flat leather folder, he ex¬ 
tracted a paper. “My credentials,” he said. 
“Mrs. Lannard has duly signed and trans¬ 
ferred ten thousand shares to me. Are you 
now satisfied that I speak with authority?” He 
smiled and rather pointedly exposed a consid¬ 
erable package of bills. This maneuver con¬ 
firmed Rasher’s suspicion concerning the 
count’s object, but it was not yet time to be 
insulted. Lannard’s majority almost within 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 205 

reach! It was too good to be true, but he must 
play safe. 

‘T wrote Mr. Lannard I could not discuss 
this in private,” he said smoothly. 

'^But, Mr. Rasher, you are an intelligent 
man. You must know matters of this kind are 
much better arranged quietly. The question is, 
will you help us ?” 

Rasher smoked thoughtfully. He appeared 
to be wavering. The count began to feel sure 
of his ground. If he could enlist Rasher's aid 
the deadlock in the mills would be broken and 
his success as mediator would restore him 
to favor with Muriel and her father. Since the 
afternoon's episode of the banners, they had 
been distinctly cool. It was imperative that 
he succeed in this negotiation. 

''Count, the affairs of the company will con¬ 
tinue in a bad way as long as Stabb directs 
them. Does Mr. Lannard expect to keep him ?'' 

"Why, Mr. Lannard maintains it is his right 
to employ whom he wishes. I doubt if he will 
yield in a matter of that kind.” 


206 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


‘Then you as a stockholder should know 
that the company will be bankrupt within three 
months/^ 

This was an angle the count had overlooked. 
The perspiration started on his brow. “You 
mean— 

Both men were thinking of the ten thousand 
shares. 

“To-day your stock is worth considerable 
money. Three months from to-day you’ll have 
a hard time selling it.” 

The count became visibly agitated. 

“Mr, Rasher, you have got to help us.” He 
glanced around the poorly furnished room. 
“You need money, and I am confident measures 
will be adopted later to better your friends’ con¬ 
dition. Come, you can make more in five min¬ 
utes than you could in five years.” 

Rasher again deliberated. The count took 
it as a good sign and drew out the heavy 
folder. 

“The men trust me,” said Rasher finally, 
speaking slowly as though to himself. “I 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


207 


would be selling them out. What would you 
do if you were in my place?” 

The count flushed uncomfortably. It was 
an awkward thing to admit, yet he had so 
much to gain! 

'‘You express it unfortunately,” he said. 
"However, I will tell you. I should act as a 
practical man. With the world as it is, one 
must look out for himself. I should take it.” 

"Then you admit that you could be bought ?” 
asked Rasher calmly. 

"Sir! You mean to insult me?” 

"If you consider it an insult, you must re¬ 
member you have already insulted me.” 

An angry light flashed in Kolnokoff’s eye as 
he realized he had been tricked. Rasher 
went on: 

"With your philosophy of life, as you outline 
it, am I to infer that you have been bought 
in your forthcoming marriage to Miss Lan- 
nard and that this ten thousand shares of Lan- 
nard Steel is your price? You see, Count, you 
do not come to me with very clean hands,” 


208 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Reason, which must have told him to avoid 
a quarrel, was routed and the count’s eyes 
blazed with a fire that had been kindled gen- 
rations ago in his Tartar ancestors. Discre¬ 
tion and diplomatic restraint were likewise 
gone. 

^‘You are impossible!” he exclaimed, rising. 
''This is what I get for trying to deal with'crea- 
tures like you! Out of my way!” And the 
count, cane in hand, struck out as his forebears 
struck petty human obstacles from their paths 
in days gone by. The cane, a heavy one, sent 
Rasher reeling, and a trickle of red stained 
his cheek. 

If Count Kolnokoff thought he could angrily 
brush Harry L. Rasher aside with the same 
imperious impatience he formerly used on the 
muzhiks of his estate, he was mistaken. His 
hand was on the door-knob when Rasher, re¬ 
covering his balance after the blow of the 
cane, was at his side. 

"One moment,” said Rasher. "Our inter¬ 
view is not ended.” 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


209 


The count paused. 

‘‘Not ended? What do you mean?’’ 

“I mean that you are not to leave until you 
have apologized to me.” 

The count’s eye ran contemptuously up and 
down the slighter figure of Rasher. 

“Bah!” His lip curled and he turned the 
knob. The next instant he was jerked violent¬ 
ly back to the middle of the room. It was the 
first time in his life that he had been man¬ 
handled. An ungovernable rage blazed 
in his eyes. Without a second’s hesitation he 
raised his cane to strike. One could not use 
one’s fists in fighting-an inferior. But the 
cane fell harmless to the floor. 

Rasher’s first blow crrished the count’s nose, 
from which welled a crimson flood. The next 
two blackened the eyes, and another sent him 
floundering to the floor. He lurched to his 
feet in time to meet an uppercut that sent him 
crashing over a chair and against the slop jar, 
the contents of which completed the devastation 
of his appearance. 


210 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Rasher was standing above him. 

^'When you see Mr. Lannard, tell him you 
tried to bribe me. Now get out.’^ 

The commotion had drawn a number of 
other boarders to the door. 

‘‘This man has tried to bribe me to sell out 
the men/^ explained Rasher. “Let him out.’^ 

Kolnokoff, a battered spectacle, glared at 
Rasher, and, with a final attempt at dignity, 
pushed his way through the group at the door. 

Rasher was thinking fast. Would the count, 
in that condition, go back to the Lannard car ? 
He decided not. 

“Quick!"’ he whispered to one of them. “Fol¬ 
low him and tell me where he goes.” 

An hour later he received a report that the 
count, without going into the station to buy a 
ticket, had boarded a train for New York. 

Rasher hurriedly secured an automobile and 
from a neighboring town telephoned his trus¬ 
tee in New York. He was taking no chance 
that anybody in Adamant should overhear his 
conversation. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


211 


‘‘Count Kolnokoff left Adamant on the 
nine-thirty train for New York. He has ten 
thousand shares of Lannard Steel, given him 
by Mrs. Lannard. Meet him at the station 
without fail and buy that stock. I think he 
will be in a mood to dispose of it to the first 
bidder who offers cash.’’ 

Rasher emphasized the necessity for instant 
action. 

His next move was to despatch a note to Mr. 
Lannard suggesting noon of the following day 
for a conference. Lannard agreed. He was 
anxious to have it over, get the labor situation 
adjusted, and return to New York, a senti¬ 
ment heartily seconded by his wife. 

“I’ll never come back here again,” she 
vowed. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


It was not a cheerful group in the Lannard 
private car. Muriel sat deep in a big chair, 
gazing unseeingly out of the window. Mrs. 
Lannard attempted to read, but long moments 
passed without the turning of a single page. 
Her husband, hands behind him, paced back 
and forth, a habit he had when nervously dis¬ 
turbed. 

The nine-thirty train had come and gone. 
Ten o’clock came, and with it the note from 
Rasher suggesting the meeting for noon of 
the next day. At eleven o’clock there was a 
growing concern about the count’s continued 
absence which Mr. Lannard was the first to 
voice. 

‘T suppose your count has run into trouble,” 
he said cynically. 'Tor one. I’ll not be sorry 
if he never comes back.” 

212 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


213 


Mrs. Lannard became very pale. She seemed 
terribly agitated. Muriel was silent. If she 
resented her father’s remark, she gave no evi¬ 
dence of it. 

‘‘Edgar!” exclaimed Mrs. Lannard, “you 
don’t really think he’s gone-?” 

“Well, where is he? There’s nothing in this 
town that would keep a man up until this 
hour.” 

Mrs. Lannard’s agitation swiftly reached a 
state of panic. The count had the stock, of the 
transfer of which her husband knew nothing. 
She burst into tears. 

“Oh, Edgar, I should have told you! I 
transferred my ten thousand shares to the 
count.” 

Mr. Lannard, open-mouthed, glared wildly 
at her. 

“You—what?” he gasped hoarsely. 

“I transferred them yesterday. The mar¬ 
riage was only a few days oflf, and-” 

Mr. Lannard waited to hear no more. Push¬ 
ing her aside, he rushed out of the car and. 




214 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


bareheaded, ran to the ticket office, muttering 
to himself. 

The office was closed. 

‘'Quick to the porter. “Find the ticket 
agent and bring him here. Hurry 

After an agonized wait of half an hour the 
porter returned with the agent. 

“No, ,the count hadn’t gone on the nine- 
thirty train. At least he didn’t buy a ticket,” 
stammered the agent, catching something of 
I-annard’s alarm. 

Hastily writing a despatch to his secretary, 
Lannard thrust it into the agent’s hand. 

“Here! Get this off at once.” He waited as 
the words were clicked off. “Kolnokoff unex¬ 
pectedly left. Has probably gone to New York. 

% 

May have taken nine-thirty train. Meet him 
and prevent at any cost sale of Lannard stock 
which he has. Wire acknowledgment.” 

It was about eight-thirty when Count Kol¬ 
nokoff left Rasher’s room and started for the 
Lannard private car, but he stopped as he 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


215 


neared the station. He knew his appearance 
must be terrible, for he could feel the swollen 
eyes and the sticky blood that smeared his 
clothes and face. 

He could not confront Muriel in this condi¬ 
tion. Pride and discretion alike warned him 
against revealing the miserable part he had 
played as mediator. He looked back at the 
town, where a somber silence hung over the 
mills—not a picture to cheer a timid stock¬ 
holder. 

He turned and walked out beyond the limits 
of the town until he found a little stream, in 
which he washed. 

''Now what?’' thought he, seating himself 
on the coping of the bridge. He was at the 
fork of the road, and he must choose which 
way to go. The day in Adamant had been un¬ 
fortunate from start to finish. First the out¬ 
break of the strike. Then those damnable 
banners! Who could have held such a grudge 
against him? He cursed softly. Sonia and 
Maria, mere paragraphs in the story of his 


216 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


life, had arisen fatefully from the past to exact 
payment for their wrongs. Since the episode 
Muriel had scarcely spoken to him and her 
father had been frigid. And now this last 
miserable fiasco with Rasher! When they 
heard of that, all hope of his restoration to 
favor would be gone. He shrugged his shoul¬ 
ders, smiled bitterly, and looked at his watch. 

It was after nine. Swiftly he walked back 
to the station, from the shadow of which he 
gazed at the lighted windows of the Lannard 
car, standing alone on its siding, until the nine- 
thirty train came in, and then, waiting until it 
resumed its course, he boarded the forward 
coach. 

And Rasher’s man, who had followed him 
unobserved, took back his report. 

Inside the car, the count paid a cash fare. 

'"Automobile accident,” he explained to the 
conductor, who eyed him curiously but made 
no comment. "When do we get to New 
York?” 


"Seven forty-five in the morning.” 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


217 


He pulled up his collar and slouched deep 
in his seat, gloomily facing the prospect of a 
long night on a local which carried no sleepers. 

Cigarette after cigarette vanished as his 
mind restlessly went over the situation. Of 
course, the Lannards would try to recover the 
stock. But he did not feel in honor bound to 
return it. The compact had been a cold¬ 
blooded one. They knew he was marrying for 
money, and he knew they wanted his title. If 
some one must suffer, why should it be he? 
Besides, rich Americans were legitimate prey. 
Dollar chasers themselves, how could they com¬ 
plain when beaten at their own game ? 

The count found himself speculating on the 
value of his ten thousand shares of Lannard 
Steel. Figured in francs, it would be enough 
to keep him in Paris and Monte Carlo the rest 
of his life. Figured in rubles-! Colossal! 

Late in the night he fell into a troubled doze, 
and was still asleep when a man, walking 
through the train and scanning each face, sat 
down beside him. 



218 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Back in Adamant, Mr. Lannard's slumber 
was equally disturbed. After sending his tele¬ 
gram he returned to his wife. 

‘T wired Benson to meet him and get the 
stock at any cost,’’ he said coldly. ‘'Does any 
one else know of the transfer ?” 

“I haven’t even told Muriel.” 

“Well, it may work out all right. We will 
leave directly after the meeting to-morrow.” 

“What could have happened to the count to¬ 
night ? Why should he leave without a word ?” 
Mrs. Lannard, somewhat reassured by her 
husband’s confidence, had regained her poise. 

“God knows!” he answered curtly. 

He felt that if worse came to worse he could 
probably buy more stock from the indifferent 
Livingston estate. But at best it would mean 
a big financial sacrifice to recover control. He 
finally fell asleep cursing the count and Rasher. 

In the morning he tore open a telegram, but 
it was merely his secretary’s delayed acknowl¬ 
edgment of the receipt of his own message. 
Efforts to reach the secretary by telephone 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


219 


were futile. He had not appeared at the office 
that morning’, nor could he be located at his 
own apartment. 

Seriously disturbed, Mr. Lannard prepared 
to go to the hall designated by Rasher as the 
meeting place. Mr. Stabb arriving, the two 
men started at once for what was destined to 
be an eventful conference. 

Mr. Lannard approached the conference 
with Rasher with two thoughts—one, to get it 
over as quickly as possible, the other, and domi¬ 
nant one, the imperative necessity of recovering 
from the vanished count the ten thousand 
shares of stock. He assumed no outsider knew 
of the transfer and that his secretary would 
have a clear field in his efforts to secure them. 
Unfortunately, he had not heard from his sec¬ 
retary. 

He was, therefore, in no mood for cool delib¬ 
eration. He was irritable and nervous, with 
moments of complete abstraction. 

Several workmen were already seated in the 
conference room when Mr. Lannard and Mr. 



220 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Stabb arrived. The door was open to any 
others who might care to hear the discussion. 

‘T don^t like this,” said Lannard testily. 
‘‘Matters of this kind should be conducted pri¬ 
vately. Which of these men is Rasher?” 

“Here he comes now,” answered Stabb in 
a low voice. 

Into the room walked Harry L. Rasher. 
Lannard stared, speechless, rooted to his chair. 

“Why—why-” he stammered. “What 

does this mean? This man^s name is Bacon. 
I know him. Explain yourself, young man.” 

“My name is Rasher here, Mr. Lannard,” 
replied Rasher coolly. 

“But why the alias? Stabb, this is most ir¬ 
regular. Am I expected to deal with a man 
who hides his real name?’’ 

Lannard’s mind, over its first bewilderment, 
ran swiftly backward. The twenty-five-thou- 
sand-dollar check. Bacon’s abrupt disappear¬ 
ance, and now his presence here in the Lannard 
mills under an alias. It certainly looked sus¬ 
picious. He scanned Rasher’s face for telltale 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


221 


marks of crime, but all he saw was a pleasant 
young man, wholly intent upon the matter in 
hand. 

Stabb, nonplussed at first, took his cue from 
Lannard and gloated openly. His early suspi¬ 
cions that Rasher was a crook seemed now con¬ 
firmed. 

Rasher’s associates, too, were gaping. An 
assumed name? Already known to Lannard? 
Was he double-crossing them ? 

“My friends here will agree”—Rasher in¬ 
cluded them in his glance—“I could hardly 
have accomplished what I have tried to do for 
them, without interference from yourself, had 
I worked under my own name. Shall we begin, 
gentlemen ?” 

His assurance won out, thanks, possibly, to 
Lannard’s uncertainty and preoccupation. 

“Very well,” said the latter. “Let’s get it 
over with. What are your demands ?” 

“First, the dismissal of James Stabb as man¬ 
ager of this plant. The new manager must 
have a sympathetic appreciation of the prob- 



222 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


lems of life that confront the working people. 
He must enforce here the more enlightened in¬ 
dustrial policies now being adopted by an in¬ 
creasing number of intelligent employers. 
Temperamentally Mr. Stabb could never read¬ 
just his point of view. His dismissal is the first 
requisite to better relations.” 

Stabb flushed angrily. 

‘'Mr. Bacon,” said Mr. Lannard coldly, “you 
are using to me the language of a dictator. Do 
you expect me to surrender my right to run 
my own property as I deem best?” 

“Conditions here, Mr. Lannard, are largely 
the fault of Mr. Stabb. I doubt if your deter¬ 
mination to keep him and thus prolong an un¬ 
profitable business will be wholly approved by 
the other stockholders.” 

Lannard flinched. He recollected vividly 
the strong anti-Stabb sentiment at the last di¬ 
rectors’ meeting, when his will prevailed by 
only a small majority. And now—without 
those ten thousand shares ? He cursed 
mentally. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


223 


‘‘Well/’ he said, “what else? Profit sharing; 
workers’ council; eight-hour day; tea-rooms?” 

Rasher looked at him steadily. 

“I am sorry you find this a matter for jest, 
Mr. Lannard.” 

The quiet reproof made the latter flush un¬ 
comfortably. Rasher continued: “The sec¬ 
ond point is the improvement of living condi¬ 
tions here. I suggest that you and your family 
try them for a while if you doubt me.” 

Lannard began an angry retort, but just then 
a telegram was handed him. The words, 
“Stock transferred and registered before he 
left for Adamant,” struck him like a blow. That 
hope was killed, then, and fear drove all else 
from his mind. My God, why didn’t Benson 
wire! Rasher noted his nervousness with some¬ 
thing like relief. He himself had not heard 
from MacFall, but at least he could guess that 
Lannard’s people had not recovered the stock. 

Lannard hastily looked at his watch, then 
arose. “I—I must go. Very important bus¬ 
iness,” he mumbled, indicating the telegram. 


224 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


'There can be no business, Mr. Lannard, 
more important than settling this matter. The 
men are out and will not return until Mr. Stabb 
is dismissed. This situation, if prolonged,'may 
lead to trouble, certainly financial loss.’’ 

Stabb backed Lannard quickly. 

^'Let ’em stay out. We can stand it longer 
than they, and if they get rough we’ll have the 
constabulary here at once.” 

'T’m sorry. Rasher, but you’ll have to tell 
your men we’ll finish this discussion later,” and 
Mr. Lannard hurried out, half running. From 
Stabb’s office he called his secretary in New 
York, but again in vain. On the verge of a 
nervous collapse, he returned to his car. 

"Where are the ladies?” he cried to the 
alarmed porter. 

"They’ve gone up to Miss Brook’s for lunch¬ 
eon, sir. They didn’t expect you back so soon.” 
Lannard threw up his hands in a gesture of 
despair and rushed out to resume his efforts 
to reach Benson. 


CHAPTER XIX 


At this same moment Harry Rasher was 
climbing the hill to Mary Brookes house, in re¬ 
sponse to a note she had sent. ‘TVe a surprise 
for you,’’ she had scrawled hastily. 

Mary Brook met Rasher at the door. 

‘'As I wrote you, I’ve a surprise,” she whis¬ 
pered; “but first, how did the conference turn 
out?” 

“X^othing definite. Mr. Lannard seemed very 
much worried about something else.” 

He pressed her hand, and for an instant two 
misty eyes looked up into his. “But come,” 
she said. 

The front room, old-fashioned and comfort¬ 
able, seemed dark as Rasher entered from the 
bright sunlight, and for a moment he was not 
conscious that others were there. Mary had 

begun, “This is Mr. Rasher-” when a sharp 

cry startled him. 


225 



226 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


*‘Why—why, it's Harry Bacon! For good¬ 
ness' sake what are you doing here?" Muriel 
Lannard was shaking both his hands. 

Mrs. Lannard was gaping wide-eyed. ^‘Ba¬ 
con—Rasher!" she cried, bewildered. ‘^Mary, 
what is the meaning of this ?" 

Mary, the most surprised of all, stared from 
one to the other. Her cousin greeting Rasher 
as an old friend, and by a strange name! ‘T— 
don't—know!" she faltered. 

‘'So you are this Rasher person we've been 
hearing so much about!" exclaimed Muriel. 
“Why, it's like a scene from a movie. I'm 
burning with curiosity! Why Rasher? And 
why the role of labor agitator?" 

Mrs. Lannard was tapping her foot nervous¬ 
ly. Her face was like a thunder-cloud. 

“I assure you I didn't know you were to be 
here," Rasher said. “Mary spoke of a surprise, 
but I didn't dream-" 

Muriel still held him by the hand. “Sit down 
and explain a lot of things. First, that check! 
Mercy, how amazed we were! And we don't 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


227 


know yet where you got it. Mother said you 
won it prize-fighting; didn't you, mother?" 

''At least that way," her mother answered 
stiffly. "I hope it was not acquired in a still 
more unworthy manner!" 

Rasher laughed good-naturedly. 

"I hope the money did some good," he 
said. 

"But, Harry, you must have given all you 
had! And now you're here slaving in this 
hole." 

Muriel's animation, unusual these days, and 
her evident enjoyment of the situation, was 
intensely displeasing to Mrs. Lannard. 

"I think Mr. Bacon owes us an explanation 
of his extraordinary behavior, and why it is 
necessary to travel under an alias." She 
turned to the still wide-eyed Mary, and, quick 
to act upon a suddenly determined plan, led her 
from the room. "I must speak with you, 
Mary." 

Muriel pushed Rasher, laughing, into a 
chair. 


228 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


^‘Alone at last!^’ she exclaimed. ^^And now 
for a heart-to-heart! First, are you engaged 
to Mary 

‘‘No.’’ 

“Of course you hate us, don’t you?” she 
asked. “Is that why you are making trouble 
for us here in the plant? And why did you 
leave New York that way—and where did you 
get that twenty-five thousand dollars ?” 

“One at a time!” he cried. “I don’t hate 
you in the least. I think you can be very nice 
sometimes—most of the time, if left to yourself. 
I left because I didn’t seem to be very necessary 
around your house. And the money was—well, 
given me by a good fairy. Anything else ?” 

“But why are you working against us here?” 

“I’m not. I’m only trying to help some very 
poor and hard working people who need a 
friend.” 

“You’ve becdhie quite a power, I hear. Mary 
says you have great influence with these peo¬ 
ple. Have you?” 

“A little, I hope.” 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


229 


She studied him with a new interest. Yes, 
he had developed. There was a certain air of 
quiet mastery about him. It might be well to 
capture that influence. 

'Well, why don’t you ask me some ques¬ 
tions ? Aren’t you interested—any more ?” 

"Your engagement interested me. You’re 
to be a countess, I believe.” 

Her face sobered. 

"The count left last night—quite suddenly. 
He went to see you, didn’t he? What hap¬ 
pened ?” 

"The count was unfortunate in his tactics. 
We had words, and. I’m sorry to say, there 
were blows. I assume he didn’t return to your 
car.” 

"No. Father and mother are worried.” 

"And you ?” 

She shrugged her shoulders. 

"Let’s not talk of it,” she said in a low voice; 
and yet when he did not press for an explana¬ 
tion she was conscious of intense disappoint¬ 
ment. It piqued her to think that Harry Ba- 


230 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


con, once her slave, could now be indifferent; 
and at that moment in her capricious heart was 
born a vow to hurt him as much as his indiffer¬ 
ence was hurting her. 

But Mrs. Lannard and Mary now returned, 
one stern and aggressive, the other pale and 
subdued, and Muriel's new formed plan of ac¬ 
tion was deferred. 

^^Come, Muriel," said her mother; ‘‘we shall 
return to the car. We can not remain longer 
with one who is conspiring against our in¬ 
terests-" 

“On the contrary, Mrs. Lannard," Rasher 
interrupted, “I wish the greatest prosperity for 
the mills. If I am representing the workers, it 
is because it is to their interests also that the 
plant prosper. A failing business means dis¬ 
tress and worry for them. Can't you under¬ 
stand?" 

Mrs. Lannard pointedly ignored him. 

“Come, Muriel! And you, Mary, unless you 
act exactly as I advised, you must expect no 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


231 


more favors from us! I trust your mother will 
soon be out again. Til have some flowers sent 
up.^’ And she walked haughtily out. Muriel 
lingered. 

''Shall I see you again?’’ she said softly. 

'T hope so,” and he added quickly, "It’s a 
small world—as you’ve no doubt heard be¬ 
fore.” 

"Now, what did he mean by that?” she 
thought uneasily. 

When Mrs. Lannard and Muriel reached the 
car they found Mr. Lannard engulfed in 
heavy gloom. He scarcely looked up at his 
wife’s anxious inquiry, but indicated a telegram 
on the table. 

She seized it and read: "The Livingston es¬ 
tate has bought the count’s ten thousand 
shares.” 

The consequences of her wilful folly came 
home to Mrs. Lannard with crushing force as 
she saw her husband, broken-spirited, gray¬ 
faced, and suddenly aged. Why had she been 
such a fool to disregard his admonition and 


232 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


trust a fortune-hunting nobleman? Desper¬ 
ately, she cast about in her mind for some way 
out of the miserable impasse. 

^‘But, Edgar, the Livingston estate has no 
reason to want control,’’ she exclaimed. 
‘They’ll surely sell it back to you! They’ve 
always been perfectly friendly and voted just 
as you wished, haven’t they?” 

“At the last meeting,” answered her hus¬ 
band dully, “MacFall stood out against me for 
the first time—in favor of throwing over 
Stabb.” 

“Then, for heaven’s sake, throw him over!” 
she counseled. “Don’t let any absurd sense of 
obligation to Stabb ruin your chance of regain¬ 
ing control. Telegraph MacFall right away 
and see where he stands. He’ll be reasonable. 
He doesn’t want control.” 

Mr. Lannard, thus,urged and reassured, 
sent the telegram to the trustee of the Living¬ 
ston estate. Mrs. Lannard then prompted his 
next action. 

‘‘Now go to the second meeting with Bacon 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


233 


or Rasher or whatever his name is. Be con¬ 
ciliatory. Agree to anything that will adjust 
matters so you can take back a good report and 
justify your recovery of control and your con¬ 
tinuance as president. And don’t lose your tem¬ 
per, no matter how insufferable he may be.” 


CHAPTER XX 


In this spirit Air. Lannard went, and was 
greeted so pleasantly by Rasher that he decided 
there might be a chance of gaining his ends 
without the humiliation of yielding in the mat¬ 
ter of Stabb. 

« 

'hVIr. Rasher, I have decided to make all rea¬ 
sonable concessions to meet your demands. 
But, of course, I can not yield my right to 
choose my own manager.'’ 

“Air. Lannard, vou forget that the dismissal 
of Air. Stabb is the only demand we have made. 
We feel that better conditions will follow nat¬ 
urally." 

Lannard, his temper rising, recalled his 
wife's parting injunction and diverted the dis¬ 
cussion from Stabb. 

“What do you mean by better conditions?" 

“Wages, hours, living conditions, cost of 
living—they are all closely related." 

234 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


235 


^‘Living costs have gone down/^ 

'‘Yes, but only after an independent grocery 
curbed the Pioneer Stores/’ 

Mr. Stabb stirred uneasily. 

"And hours and wages,” continued Mr. 
Lannard, to Stabb’s relief, "are determined by 
custom and the law of supply and demand. The 
twelve-hour day in steel mills is traditional. To 
change it would dislocate the industry. And 
you will admit we paid high wages during the 
abnormally prosperous war period.” 

"It was to your advantage then,” answered 
Rasher. "You were operating on a cost plus 
basis. The government paid the bills. The 
more you made your product cost the greater 
was your percentage of profit.” 

Mr. Lannard smiled sourly. 

"Yes, and the government took it away in 
taxes. Those high war wages spoiled the work¬ 
ing man. He got a taste of silk shirts and 
pianos and it’s like pulling teeth to bring him 
to his senses.” 

"Everybody who got a taste of fat profits 


236 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


or fat wages hates to come down,” said 
Rasher. 

''Young man, don’t you realize what business 
has been through in the last two years? You 
come here, only a spokesman with little at 
stake. It is with our money that you would be 
generous. If you were the head of this plant 
instead of me you’d change your generous no¬ 
tions. If you people could occasionally see mat¬ 
ters from our standpoint—you would be more 
tolerant.” 

"There!” exclaimed Rasher, "you’ve touched 
the big point. If the employer and employee 
could see things from the other’s standpoint, 
and understand the hard problems, industrial 
relations would improve enormously. At pres¬ 
ent each wants to get the most out of the other. 
You have no conception of the workman’s prob¬ 
lems ; he has none of yours.” 

At this point a telegram was handed Rasher. 
He read it with unmoved features. 

"Fake telegram,” whispered Stabb to Mr. 
Lannard—"to impress us. You got one yes- 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 237 

terday—^he has one delivered to himself to¬ 
day/^ 

Rasher abruptly brought the discussion back 
to the immediate issue. 

'This plant is the most backward of all the 
independent steel plants/’ he said. "We want 
to see it the most progressive and the most 
prosperous. There are still unskilled work¬ 
men here who work twelve hours a day ’ at 
twenty-five cents an hour fifty-two weeks a 
year. Add eight hours’ sleep, an hour and a 
half to and from work, another to eat, and 
there are left only two hours of fatigued leis¬ 
ure for recreation, the duties of citizenship and 
home life. Fatigue and efficiency don’t go to¬ 
gether, Mr. Lannard.” 

"To be operated economically, these mills 
must cover a twenty-four-hour day with two 
shifts. Three shifts would destroy all hope of 
profit!” 

"England, France, Belgium, Germany, Italy 
and Spain have abandoned the twelve-hour 
shift. Twenty steel plants in this country, Mr. 


238 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Lannard, are now running on three shifts,” 
replied Rasher. 

^'But the men want to work the extra hours 
for the extra money.” 

'^Not want to—have to!” exclaimed Rasher, 
^'to support their families. If you and your 
family tried to live on twenty-five cents an 
hour, at the present cost of living, working 
twelve hours a day, your view-point would 
change.” 

This remark intensely irritated Mr. Lan¬ 
nard. 

''Stabb, this man^s talking like a lunatic!” 

For the first time Rasher’s eyes glittered 
angrily. 

''Within a short time, Mr. Lannard, I pre¬ 
dict-” 

Lannard leaped up. 

"What are your predictions to me? Come 
on, Stabb, we’re wasting time on this—this 
drivel.” Seizing his hat, he started out, fol¬ 
lowed by Stabb, who was plainly exulting. 

"One moment, Mr. Stabb,” cried Rasher. 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


239 


‘^You are discharged. A check will be sent 
for your services to date.’’ 

The two men halted and stared in amaze¬ 
ment. Then Stabb tapped his forehead signifi¬ 
cantly. 

‘'Crazy as a loon!” he exclaimed. ‘T knew 
all along there was a screw loose somewhere!” 

“Crazy or not,” answered Rasher hotly, 
“your office must be vacated by Saturday. And 
I must have Mr. Lannard’s resignation by the 
same time.” 

Rasher’s associates were looking at him 
with anxious concern. Such ravings could only 
be explained by the fact that he had collapsed 
under the strain. Even Lannard was affected. 
It is not pleasant to see a fellow man’s rea- 
X son give way. 

“This is awful!” he gasped. “It’s the first 
time I’ve ever seen a sane man suddenly crack.” 

“It’s our salvation,” cried Stabb triumphant- 
Iv. “In an hour the whole town will know 
their champion is a crazy nut. I’ll arrange 
it so he’ll be confined. His friends will testify. 


240 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


He’s got what alienists call delusion of gran¬ 
deur.” 

The suggestion did not displease Mr. Lan- 
nard. It might be the best way out after all. 
And Stabb, jubilant, felt that luck had at last 
changed to his favor. 

‘T tell you,” exclaimed Stabb to Mr. Lan- 
nard, as they hurried away from the confer¬ 
ence with Harry L. Rasher, ‘‘our troubles are 
over. ril have a commission of lunacy act at 
once—and thoroughly, believe me.” He rubbed 
his hands eagerly. Rasher gone and his old 
unquestioned sway would be renewed! Rasher 
in an asylum and Mary Brook yet within his 
reach. 

Mr. Lannard listened with mixed feelings. 
Except for the last few words spoken by Rasher 
in the conference there had been no evidence 
of an unbalanced mind. He had seemed com¬ 
posed and sane. However, it might be just as 
well to let Stabb go ahead and have a trouble¬ 
some influence put beyond the power of caus¬ 
ing further mischief. 



AN HEIR- AT LARGE 


241 


The two men separated, Stabb to put his plan 
into effect and Lannard to go to his private 
car. 

“What success asked his wife eagerly. 

Muriel dropped her book and hurried for¬ 
ward to hear first-hand the verdict that might 
mean so much in their lives. 

Mr. Lannard poured himself a stiff drink, 
swallowed it neat, and sank into a chair. 

“Most extraordinary!’' he gasped. “Muriel, 
did you ever notice anything queer about that 
young man 

“Why, no, I don’t think so,” she answered, 
mvstified. 

m 

“Well, he’s insane,” exclaimed her father. 
“I was never so shocked in my life.” 

“For mercy’s sake, don’t keep us in sus¬ 
pense,” cried Mrs. Lannard. “What hap¬ 
pened ?” 

“Well, we talked matters over. He acted 
perfectly sane, except for some of his argu¬ 
ments, which were the half-baked sort one 
might expect. It was only at their end, due to 


242 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


the strain of the discussion, I suppose, that he 
suddenly blew up, talked like a madman, dis¬ 
charged Stabb, demanded my resignation at 
once, and—well, if it weren’t so tragic, it would 
have been ludicrous.” 

‘Hhere, Muriel!” Mrs. Lannard turned 
triumphantly. “I hope you will give me credit 
for good judgment. I never wanted you to 
marry him. I always knew there was some¬ 
thing wrong.” 

Muriel snapped back: 

‘‘Yes, mother dear, you wanted me to marry 
Boris, who has run off with ten thousand 
shares of your steel stock.” 

It was a deadly blow, and her mother actu¬ 
ally reeled. Recovering, she turned to her hus¬ 
band. 

“Stabb is now preparing to have a commis¬ 
sion of lunacy act. He is confident that he can 
exert influence enough to have the young man 
sent to an asylum at once.” 

“Good!” exclaimed Mrs. Lannard, while 
Muriel cried angrily: 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


243 


^^Mother, youTe perfectly horrible. Tm 
going to see Harry at once.” 

“You’re not! You stay here. Can’t you 
see how fortunate this turn of affairs is for us? 
Your father can now go back to New York, ex¬ 
plain that the troubles in the plant are due to 
the pernicious meddlings of a madman, and he 
will have no trouble in justifying himself and 
Mr. Stabb to the trustee of the Livingston 
estate. He can then repurchase control of the 
company.’’ 

Muriel bowed before this masterful summing 
up of the matter. After all, the main thing 
was to regain control. Why quarrel with the 
means of arriving at the desired end ? 

“But how about Mary?” she asked. “Are 
we to sit by and see her hurt ? Shouldn’t I go 
up and console her?” 

“Mary must marry Mr. Stabb,” announced 
her mother coldly. “He’s a strong man. He 
can keep her in her place. She won’t be 
running around with every crack-brained ad¬ 
venturer that comes along.” 


244 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


‘T’m going up there just the same/’ Muriel 
said with finality. ‘^She likes Harry Bacon, 
though how much I don’t know, and will be ter¬ 
ribly cut up when she hears he’s unbalanced.” 

Mrs. Lannard shrugged her shoulders. 

“You’d better not meddle in the affair. Mary 
got herself into this mess, let her get out of it 
the best she can.” 

Muriel shot an unpleasant glance at her 
mother and put on her hat. 

“And keep away from Bacon,” her mother 
commanded. “There’s no telling what a man 
in his state of mind might do. Goodness 
knows we don’t want the scandal of tragedy 
just as things are looking so promising.” 

Muriel left the car and started for Mary 
Brook’s home. ' Her mind was in a whirl of 
emotions, pity for Bacon, anger at her mother’s 
heartlessness, a faint glow of satisfaction that 
she would be the first to impart the bad news 
to Mary. • ^ 

As she walked quickly up the path she was 
panic-stricken to see the well remembered 



“If he should ever ask you to marry him, don’t, don’t, don’t!” 























































AN HEIR AT LARGE 


245 

figure of Harry Bacon, alias Rasher, in the act 
of ringing the bell. Muriel hesitated, irreso¬ 
lute, and then something urged her forward to 
join the unsuspecting young man. She reached 
the step before he heard her, and he swung 
around, startled. She shrank back in alarm, 
and the look in his eves became even more 
startled. 

They were thus facing each other when 
Mary Brook opened the door and confronted 
this amazing tableau. Muriel edged by Rasher 
and, seizing Mary, hurried her into an alcove 
in the hall. 

''Quick,’’ she whispered, "in here! I’ve just 
heard something terrible about—about him! I 
can’t tell you now, but, Mary, if he should ever 
ask you to marry him, don’t, don’t, don’t! As 
you love your mother, as you love your happi¬ 
ness, don’t.” She whispered the tense words 
in great agitation. "Come down as soon as he 
goes.” And before Mary could stop her Muriel 
hurried out, casting an apprehensive glance at 
the astonished Rasher as she passed. 


CHAPTER XXI 


Muriel Lannard was sincere in warning 
Mary Brook against Harry L. Rasher. She 
thought him insane, and, although the belief 
was one born only since her father had re¬ 
lated the amazing climax that had occurred at 
the conference, she now found herself remem¬ 
bering other things which seemed to support it 
The twenty-five-thousand-dollar check given to 
charity at a time when he could have had but 
little if any more, his mysterious disappearance 
from New York, and his reappearance in the 
Lannard mills as a common workman under an 
assumed name—these things now assumed a 
different aspect, explainable only as the work¬ 
ings of an unbalanced mind. 

Her throat tightened. To think of Harry 
Bacon, or Rasher, in an asylum! He who had 

246 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


247 


always been so nice and friendly! For once in 
her life Muriel was really stirred, and at the 
moment pity for Bacon was dangerously ap¬ 
proaching love. 

‘‘What an irony of fate! Poor Harry,’’ she 
reflected, and then, with quivering lips, “and 
poor me! Heavens, I mustn’t fall in love with 
him now!” 

Hurrying down from Mary’s, she soon 
reached the private car. Her father was 
slumped in a chair, staring blankly at the floor; 
her mother had been weeping. Muriel never 
remembered having seen her mother in tears 
before. A sudden sense of foreboding seized 
her. 

“What in the world-?” she began, but 

her mother cut her short. 

“Of all the damnable tricks of fate! How 
could we have been such stupid fools ? Of all 

the-” Her voice wavered and she broke 

again into angry tears, 

“Mother, mother! what in the world has hap¬ 
pened ?” 




248 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Mrs. Lannard dabbed her handkerchief to 
her eyes and with an effort controlled her voice. 

''Have you seen Mary?’’ she asked. 

"Yes; I just left her.” 

"Did you tell her about—about Mr. Bacon ?” 

"He was there when I arrived. There was 
no chance to talk, but I managed to warn her 
not to marry him if he should ask her.” 

"Do you think he intends to ask her?” said 
Mrs. Lannard in a queer voice. 

"I really do, mother. He seemed dressed 
with more care. But I think I was in time to 
save Mary.” 

"I hope so, my dear. I hope you were in 
time to prevent her becoming engaged to him.” 

"Oh, I’m sure she’ll wait before giving a 
definite answer. I asked her to come here as 
soon as he leaves. But why all this sudden con¬ 
cern on Mary’s account? You didn’t feel that 
way when I went up. And you haven’t ex¬ 
plained all this gloom and tragedy. What’s 
happened ?” 

Her mother paused a moment, and when she 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


249 


spoke her voice again trembled with bitterness. 
She looked at her husband. 

‘‘Tell her/’ he muttered. 

“Muriel, Harry Bacon is the heir of the Liv¬ 
ingston estate.” For a moment Muriel stood 
riveted, and then her knees gave way and she 
sank into a chair. Her mother, calm now, con¬ 
tinued: “He is not insane. He controls the 
Lannard Steel Company and has the power to 
remove Mr. Stabb and your father if he 
chooses.” 

“Impossible!” cried Muriel. “Father, it 
isn’t true ?” 

“It’s true enough,” he answered. “MacFall 
wired me not half an hour ago. There’s the 
telegram.” Muriel seized it. The words fairly 
burned into her consciousness. 

“For all information concerning the atti¬ 
tude of the Livingston estate I refer you to Mr. 
H. L. Bacon, now in Adamant. He is the 
Livingston estate.” 

Muriel threw her head back and a shriek of 
hysterical laughter, unpleasant to hear, burst 


250 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


from her, laughter without mirth, laughter that 
made her parents look with alarm. Shriek fol¬ 
lowed shriek. 

^'Oh, what a joke!'' she gasped. ‘'What a— 
what a divine-" And then, quite as sud¬ 

denly, she collapsed in a storm of tears. 

‘T love him, mother," she sobbed. ‘T never 
knew it until this afternoon. And now—this!" 

“It may not be too late, dear," said her 
mother meaningly, as she stroked Muriel's 
hair. “Mr. Bacon must, of course, not marry 
Mary. It would be a mistake for both of them. 
With her inexperience, she could not adjust 
herself to the responsibilities of the position his 
wealth will entail." 

“Over fifteen millions!" said Mr. Lannard. 

“And now I suppose you want me to marry 
him!" Muriel leaped up and pushed her mother 
from her. “It's in your mind, mother, and it's 
perfectly abominable! Besides, he’s in love 
with Mary. We are getting exactly what we 
deserve, and it serves us right for the rotten 
way we've acted!" 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


251 


Mrs. Lannard did not lose her temper. She 
was astute enough to know that this was a 
moment for repression rather than coercion. 
She knew her daughter and how to deal with 
her moods. 

‘‘Let’s get away from this place!” cried Mur- 
riel wildly. “I can’t stand it another minute. 
I’m sick of it all, and I’m sick of myself.” 

“We’ll soon be going, dear. Go in and rest. 
If Mary comes, I will see her.” 

Mary Brook at that moment was undergo¬ 
ing the most painful ordeal of her life. She 
had been profoundly agitated by Muriel’s 
whispered warning, “As you love your mother, 
as you love your happiness, don’t marry him!” 
The words were too horrid in their implica¬ 
tion to be disregarded and she paused to re¬ 
gain a semblance of composure before facing 
Harry L. Rasher. 

He came to her at once. 

“What’s the matter, Mary? You’re as pale 
as a ghost.” He put his hands on her 
shoulders. “Why, you’re trembling all over!” 


252 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


‘T’ll be all right in a minute/^ Her voice 
was hardly above a whisper, and her effort to 
steady it was apparent. She made a brave at¬ 
tempt to turn the conversation. '‘How did 
your conference with Mr. Lannard come out?^’ 

"Please tell me, Mary. Did Muriel say some¬ 
thing—or your mother, she isn’t worse, is 
she?” 

"No, Harry, it isn’t that. It’s really nothing 
—much. Just something that upset me for a 
moment.” She tried gently to disengage his 
hands. 

"If there is anything I can do, Mary- 

You know I would do anything for you.” 

Her eyes fell, and she made no further effort 
to withdraw from his hold. 

"You know that, Mary, don’t you?” he per¬ 
sisted. "You surely know I love you.” 

She wrenched free from him then, and flung 
herself into a chair. 

"Oh, please, Harry, not now—please wait— 
come to-morrow, or this evening,” she cried, 
her face buried in her hands. 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


253 


He knelt beside her and put his arm about 
her shoulder. 

“Mary, I worship you. YouVe been pure 
sunshine in my life since IVe known you. I 
love you with every beat of my heart—with my 
whole soul, and I never want to be away from 
you as long as I live.” His voice was now 
trembling with deep emotion. “Please, dear, 
let me share whatever it is that troubles you.” 
He felt her shoulders quiver and knew she was 
sobbing. 

“Please, Harry,” she murmured, “Pm so 
unstrung to-day. Won’t you leave me now— 
and—wait just a little while?” She looked up, 
and he saw tenderness in her eyes. If he could 
have looked into her heart at that moment he 
would have read all he hoped to find written 
there. She longed to yield herself to him, every 
fiber of her body ached for his embrace, but 
against this impulse of her heart arose in her 
mind Muriel’s imploring warning, unmistak¬ 
ably sincere, implying some dreadful thing the 
nature of which she could not even guess. She 


254 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


could love him in spite of any crime he may 
have committed in that veiled past before he 
came to Adamant. But there might be other 
things—barriers too great to be overcome. 
She must hear from MurieFs own lips whether 
there was any real reason why she must never 
marry Harry L. Rasher. 

These thoughts agonized her, and the man 
kneeling beside her saw that she was suffering 
deeply. He knew it would be the merciful 
thing to leave her now. But he had already 
foolishly delayed too long. Unfortunately he 
must have her decision this afternoon. To-day 
she thought him poor; to-morrow she would 
know that he was the heir of the Livingston 
estate, the possessor of a vast fortune. If she 
accepted him now, it would be an expression of 
pure love, unalloyed by the faintest shadow of 
a mercenary motive. 

He was foolish, perhaps, but he was deter¬ 
mined. It must be to-day; to-morrow would be 
too late. He groped in his mind for the words 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


255 


to express this, and when he spoke he was 
conscious they were crudely inopportune. 

‘^Mary, I want you to marry me. Under 
other circumstances I would be willing to wait 
years for you to decide, but to-day things have 
come up which make me hope you will say yes 
now.’’ 

His words had a sobering effect on Mary. 
Unwelcome thoughts crowded forward. Why 
must he know to-day ? Why should a delay of 
a few hours matter ? This insistence upon an 
immediate answer vaguely gave support to 
Muriel’s warning. She took his hands and 
looked searchingly into his eyes. 

‘‘Why must you know to-day ?” she asked in 
a low voice. 

“I can’t tell you, Mary. It seems queer, I 
know, but you will understand soon. You 
trust me, don’t you ?” 

For a long time she was silent. Up to half 
an hour ago she would have trusted him im¬ 
plicitly. But if he really loved her, and there 


256 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


were no real obstacle, what could a short delay 
matter ? 

‘'Harry, I can’t give my answer to-day. 
You, too, must think it queer, for I do love you 
—so deeply that I am frightened. You are 
never out of my mind. I think of you first in 
the morning, and with my last conscious 
thoughts at night. Em sure you have known 
this”—she smiled faintly—“Em not good at 
dissembling.” Then her face sobered. “But 
we seem to be in the same awful dilemma. 
Something came up to-day which makes it im¬ 
possible for me to give you my answer now. 
To-morrow perhaps. Em sorry—more sorry 
than I can say.” 

She laid a gentle hand on his hair, and for a 
moment longer he remained on his knees, help¬ 
less, inwardly cursing whatever had made him 
leave so small a margin of time for the settle¬ 
ment of this all-important part of his affairs. 
Then, after an awkward pause, he left the 
house. 


CHAPTER XXII 


Harry L. Rasher, after leaving Mary 
Brook, struck off into the hills to be alone, and 
did not turn back until long after dark. Little 
did he dream that beneath the faint glow far 
down the valley, which was Adamant, excited 
people were searching for him, or that his name 
was leaping from lip to lip. 

Mrs. Lannard, like a capable general, was 
marshaling her forces to retrieve victory from 
defeat. After learning the crushing truth of 
his identity she planned and acted quickly. She 
sent for Mr. Clipper, the local editor, long a 
faithful cog in the Lannard-Stabb machine. 
He arrived flurried by the unexpected honor. 
She was friendly and serene. 

have some news for you,'’ she announced; 
'T think you pressmen might call it a ‘scoop’ or 
a ‘beat.’ ” 



258 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Mr. Clipper assented eagerly. 

‘There is now no further necessity for its re¬ 
maining a secret/' she went on. 

“Ah, an engagement?" asked the editor 
quickly. 

“Don't jump at conclusions!" Mrs. Lan- 
nard wagged a deprecating finger, but her smile 
suggested confirmation rather than denial. 
“Of course, you know Mr.—the young man 
known as Mr. Rasher ?" 

“Why, yes, of course," said Clipper, his 
speculations adrift. 

“Well, he merely assumed the name of 
Rasher while playing a diverting role. His 
real name is Henry Livingston Bacon, and— 
this will interest you, I’m sure—^he is the heir 
of the Livingston estate, which has such great 
holdings in these mills. He and Muriel, my 
daughter, have been friends"—she smiled 
significantly—“for years." 

“Ah," exclaimed Mr. Clipper, “this is most 
interesting! But I thought Miss Lannard was 
engaged to Count—to that Russian nobleman." 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


259 


“Mr. Clipper, you have much to learn about 
the young ladies of to-day. Count Kolnokoflf 
has been devoted to her, it is true, but the en¬ 
gagement—if one might so call it—has ceased 
to be. He has left, and is doubtless pleasantly 
engaged elsewhere.’’ 

“Well, really, Mrs. Lannard, we never cared 
much about seeing Miss Lannard marry a 
foreigner, anyway! We preferred some good 
young American.” 

Mrs. Lannard continued as though she had 
not heard his last words: 

“Mr. Bacon is of an excellent family, and 
served admirably in the war. He is a splendid 
young American who will not be spoiled by 
wealth.” 

She expanded the subject with many 
more details of young Mr. Bacon’s life, and 
ended: 

“His great holdings in these mills led 
him to come here quietly to study conditions, so 
that he might gain a first-hand knowledge of 
the property he may some day direct.” 


260 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Mr. Clipper sat up. 

‘^Direct?’’ he exclaimed. “Is he to direct the 
plant ?” 

Mrs. Lannard shrugged her shoulders. 

“He is young and energetic. Mr. Lannard 
is getting along, and will no doubt be glad to 
have younger shoulders take up the burden. 
He has been hoping to arrange matters so that 
we may take a long deferred trip abroad, where 
he can spend some months at a cure.’’ 

Mr. Clipper looked concerned. 

“I didn’t realize-” he said. “I thought 

Mr. Lannard was in excellent health.” 

“Only lately has he seriously considered the 
necessity of taking life more quietly.” 

“And Mr. Stabb?” inquired the editor with 
a faint smile. 

“Why do you smile?” she asked. 

“Well, to tell you the truth, Mr. Stabb was 
in to see me not an hour ago. He told me he 
had arranged to have a commission of lunacy 
act upon Rasher—Mr. Bacon—and that by to¬ 
morrow he’d have him in an asylum. After 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


261 


what you have just told me, his energy in this 
matter has its droll aspects.” 

‘^Mr. Stabb could use the commission with 
benefit on himself! He will doubtless soon 
leave the plant,” said Mrs. Lannard coldly, and 
added quickly: ‘‘Mr. Lannard has been con¬ 
templating a change of managers for some 
time.” Mr. Clipper arose to go. 

“May I ask, Mrs. Lannard, if I may safely 
intimate that a romantic attachment exists be¬ 
tween Mr. Bacon and—your daughter?” 

“There you go again, leaping at conclu¬ 
sions !” she smiled. “But seriously, Mr. Bacon 
has been devoted to Muriel for a long time. At 
first I opposed an engagement, in the face of 
his repeated proposals, and then he and Muriel 
had a misunderstanding, some trifling matter 
—you know how that happens with young 
people—and she, in a pique, became engaged to 
Count Kolnokofif, and I presume Harry has had 
his little fling in some other direction. Now 
that they have come together again—well— 
who knows? I hardly think it would be cor- 



262 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


rect to say that they are engaged. At any rate, 
Muriel has not told me—though she saw him 
this afternoon and did seem quite excited this 
evening.’’ She sighed. “I suppose I’ll hear 
in good time.” 

Mr. Clipper bowed, and, bursting with the 
whale of a story, tore up the street to see 
Rasher, who could not be located anywhere. 
The search widened, and the story flew from 
lip to lip, until the town was,rocking with the 
sensation. Mr. Stabb heard it as a condemned 
man hears his sentence. 

Mary Brook did not know until she picked up 
the paper at her door next morning and read 
the flaming head-lines: ‘‘Harry Rasher Iden¬ 
tified.” Faintness seized her, and dread. Sick 
at heart, she nerved herself for the blow and 
unfolded the paper. 

“HARRY RASHER IDENTIFIED AS 
HEIR OF VAST ESTATE,” 

Incredulous astonishment succeeded Mary’s 
fear. Breathless, she read on: 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


263 


SOLE HEIR TO GREAT LIVINGSTON FORTUNE! 

FASCINATING ROMANCE REVEALED. 

Yesterday afternoon the identity of Harry 
L. Rasher became known in Adamant. His 
real name is Henry Livingston Bacon, nephew 
of the late Henry Livingston, who left a for¬ 
tune conservatively estimated at fifteen million 
dollars. Mr. Bacon is the sole heir to this vast 
estate. 

This astounding revelation will be good news 
to the people of this city, among whom, as 
Rasher, the young man won deserved popular¬ 
ity by his fine qualities. His friends will fur¬ 
ther rejoice to learn that Mr. Bacon’s fortune 
includes large holdings in the Lannard Steel 
Mills, and it was to familiarize himself quietly 
and at first hand wdth the problems of this in¬ 
dustry that Mr. Bacon came here incognito. 

He has displayed such an intelligent interest 
in local affairs that he is certain to take a place 
of high leadership in promoting the future 
progress and welfare of this city. 

Still gasping with astonishment, Mary’s first 
reaction was one of indignant disgust at the 
sudden change of tone in speaking of him now 
that he was rich. Then it came over her in a 


I 

264 AN HEIR AT LARGE 

sort of despair that this was why he had wanted 
her answer at once. How could she accept him 
now ? He would distrust her always! But the 
next words sent her heart pounding in a differ¬ 
ent fear: 

Adamant will be doubly interested in the 
romance revolving about Mr. Bacon. For years 
he has been devoted to the beautiful and charm¬ 
ing daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Lannard, who 
is here with her parents, and, while it may be 
premature to announce the engagement of this 
favored couple, yet their romance has been a 
subject for interested gossip in New York so¬ 
ciety for some time. 

The glow was gone for Mary. Harry and 
Muriel old sweethearts ? Surely he would 
have told her—it was incredible that he had 
been merely amusing himself! Suddenly her 
brows contracted. Had this anything to do 
with Muriel’s frantic warning? Had it been a 
ghastly trick to save him for herself? Hurt 
and heavy-hearted, she scanned the lines which 
now were blurred. Little details of his earlier 
life, his splendid college career, his brilliant war 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


265 


record, his likable qualities, his exemplary 
character, his love of adventure—all duly 
chronicled to the editor by Mrs. Lannard, 
whose name, at her request, was not given as 
the source of information. 

Only a casual reference was made to the Kol- 
nokoff affair: 

Since Miss Lannard’s arrival here, and her 
meeting again with Mr. Bacon, a tentative em 
gagement with the distinguished nobleman. 
Count Boris Kolnokoff, has been terminated 
and the count has left. The significance of this 
can not be mistaken and all Adamant will hope 
that the Lannard and Bacon interests in this 
great steel plant will fittingly be united in a 
romantic as well as a business relationship. 

Mary, seated on the door-step, gazed seri¬ 
ously across the town sprawled along the 
river’s edge. Subconsciously she noticed that 
the mills were again in full operation, the 
steady drone of machinery reaching her ears 
with accustomed volume, the smokestacks and 
steam jets waving their usual black and white 
plumes above the grimy buildings. 


266 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


And she had refused to give him an answer 
yesterday! She drew a deep breath and went 
up to her mother’s room. 

^^Can you stand something quite exciting, 
dear ?” she asked, and, handing the paper to her 
mother, went into her own room. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


Down in the streets of Adamant the sensa¬ 
tion caused by the newspaper article can be 
likened only to that produced by an air raid on 
a sleepy inland town hitherto unmolested. 

In consequence of a press association des¬ 
patch, Adamant leaped suddenly into the fierce 
limelight of national interest. For the first 
time it became a news center of the first magni¬ 
tude. Special correspondents began arriving 
by train and motor, and a special writer and 
photographer planed in from New York. 

Miss Lannard was interviewed. When was 
she to marry Mr. Bacon? How long had she 
known him ? When did she first learn he was 
rich ? Why did she break with Count Kolno- 
kofif. Did she break the engagement or did he ? 
Blanket denials were in vain. A snapshot 
caught her at the car window. At first violent- 

267 


268 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


ly indignant at this invasion of her private 
affairs, she gradually came to find a certain 
sense of pleasant importance in being the center 
of such persistent interest. Her denials be¬ 
came less positive. Down in her heart she 
knew she should yield the heroine role to Mary 
Brook, but the intoxicating glamour of sudden 
celebrity was too sweet. It was incense to her 
vanity. Her engagement to a title had caused 
a mere ripple of public interest compared to 
this stupendous splash. There sprang up in 
her heart a fierce hope that Harry Bacon might 
yet confirm her right to all this alluring pub¬ 
licity. 

By evening the corps of correspondents had 
^increased and the alarming development of the 
day was the fact that Mr. Bacon had not been 
seen by any one since the evening before. 

While the wires sizzled with telegraphic de¬ 
mands from impatient editors to get full inter¬ 
views with Bacon, ^'world^s richest bachelor/’ 
the corps of resourceful special correspondents 
launched a sweeping campaign to locate that 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


269 


young man. The neighboring towns and 
country roads were combed by search parties, 
who questioned every lonely household, but 
who had no picture to work from. People in 
Adamant then recalled that he had always re¬ 
fused to be photographed. 

One correspondent flashed his office: “Bacon 
missing since yesterday. Foul play feared.’’ 

Adamant, stirred to its center by the sensa¬ 
tional revelation of Bacon’s identity, was now 
convulsed with the exciting rumors developed 
by his mysterious disappearance. 

Muriel alone knew that he had been last seen 
by Mary Brook, and said so to her mother. 

“Could he be there still?” asked Mrs. Lan- 
nard. “He might have wanted to add excite¬ 
ment and increase his publicity.” She knitted 
her brows. “I think you’d better run up to see 
Mary. But don’t let the reporters know. They 
mustn’t under any circumstances interview 
Mary. Find out what she knows”—here a 
thought struck her—“and I think Mary had 
better leave Adamant. Ask her and her mother 


270 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


to return to New York with us. Tell Mary she 
owes it to her mother’s health. Put it strong.” 

With these instructions Muriel departed on 
her mission. By a roundabout way she eluded 
the newspaper men and was relieved to find 
her arrival at the Brook house was unobserved. 

Mary greeted her coldly. 

‘T don’t blame you for hating me, Mary, but 
please believe me when I tell you I acted for 
what I thought was your own good. Father 
told me Harry had suddenly shown unmistak¬ 
able signs of insanity, and we knew he had 
acted queerly several times before, so I thought 
it was true and came to warn you. Of course 
he wasn’t, but all that explanation came out aft¬ 
erward. But where in the world is he? The 
whole town is agog!” 

‘T haven’t the faintest idea,” was the short 
response, and Muriel, sensing the futility of 
persisting, changed the subject. 

‘‘Mary, is your mother any better? Wouldn’t 
a few weeks at our place in the Adirondacks 
restore her completely? Mother is worried 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


271 


about her and told me positively that you were 
both to leave with us to-day. Em sure it will 
mean health to your mother—the best air, the 
best food, a splendid doctor, and absolute quiet 
in the most beautiful surroundings.’’ 

Mary hestitated, and Muriel, guessing the 
cause, added at once: 

‘‘We can leave your address, so that your 
friends will know where you are. You don’t 
think anything has happened to Harry, do you ? 
How did he act when he was here yesterday? 
Did he propose to you ?” 

But Muriebs curiosity was not to be satisfied 
All Mary said was: 

‘T don’t believe anything has happened to 
him. He probably anticipated and wished to 
avoid all this conspicuousness.” 

‘‘Weren’t you terribly surprised to hear that 
he was so rich ?” Muriel tried again. 

“Certainly. Weren’t you?” 

Muriel equivocated easily. “I suspected it. 
You see, we’re old friends, Harry and I.” 

“So I gather from the paper this morning. 


272 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


I knew you had met, but why did you never tell 
me—the rest 

''Oh, those dreadful papers!’’ exclaimed 
Muriel. "They print the most outrageous 
things! But seriously, you must bring your 
mother with us. I know you want to stay here, 
but do you think it would be right to do so at 
the expense of your mother’s health?” 

It was a powerful appeal, the only one which 
could have influenced Mary. Before Muriel 
left it was arranged that Mary and Mrs. Brook 
were to join the Lannards on their car and go 
east that afternoon. 

"Good,” was the only comment Mrs. Lan- 
nard made when she heard. 

"Have the reporters been here while I was 
away ?” asked Muriel. 

"No; they’re all scouring the country for Mr. 
Bacon. It’s most extraordinary. I should 
have thought a young man who has always 
been so obscure would delight in all this sud¬ 
den glory. The mayor and all the prominent 
citizens of Adamant are preparing a reception 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


273 


for him when he does come back. There’s to 
be a parade, speeches and all the frills. They 
wanted your father to preside, but he declined.” 

Muriel laughed. ‘'They ought to ask Mr. 
Stabb.” This drew a faint smile from her 
mother. 

“Poor Stabb! MacFall has just wired ask¬ 
ing that he be discharged and that the wages 
of all the common steel laborers be raised to 
thirty-six cents an hour. I think I see the hand 
of your Mr. Bacon in this, so he must be alive 
and well somewhere!” 

Which was true. Although somewhat 
changed from the shabby young man who had 
first appeared in Adamant in a battered flivver, 
Harry Bacon was swiftly approaching the 
town for the second time in an automobile. 

It might have been expected that Henry Liv¬ 
ingston Bacon, alias Harry L. Rasher—the 
Haroun-al-Raschid of to-day—would make his 
reappearance in the streets of Adamant a spec¬ 
tacular event in contrast to his first and very 
humble entrance several months before. But 



274 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


he did not yield to this temptation. This time, 
as before, he came in a lowly flivver, but he 
was no longer shabby. His old clothes, which 
by long usage were familiar to the people of 
Adamant, were now replaced by new ones. 

He drove at once to the home of Mary Brook, 
but it was closed. There were indications that 
it had been shut up in preparation for a con¬ 
siderable absence. The shades up-stairs and 
down were closely drawn. Mystified and dis¬ 
turbed, he drove slowly down the crooked hill 
street and stopped before the cottage of one of 
the workmen. A number of children rushed 
out and, instead of greeting him with the usual 
clamorous friendliness, they stared at him in 
wonderment. They were abashed and awed. 
The story of his wealth had reached them. 
From behind window curtains peered excited 
faces, and Harry Rasher sensed with sadness 
the new relation in which he stood in their 
eyes. Gone was the pleasant comradeship that 
existed when he was supposed to be poor. A 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 275 

barrier had arisen. He was now of the other 
and, to a degree, distrusted class. 

‘‘Hey, there r he shouted. “What’s the mat¬ 
ter with you kids? Don’t you know me?” 

Solemn eyes regarded him. The smaller 
ones edged off, but presently one of the larger 
boys answered. 

“Yes, sir, you are Harry Rash—Mr. Bacon,” 
he stammered awkwardly. 

“Well, what’s the matter anyway? What’s 
happened ?” 

“We read about you in the papers.” 

Rasher smiled a little sadly. 

“Have any of you boys seen Miss Brook?” 

They crowded forward. 

“Yes, sir, she went in an automobile—her 
mother, too, and a trunk. She stopped to say 
good-by to us. She’s going on a train.” 

“Did she say where she was going ?” 

Now there was silence. No one ventured a 
guess, so he drove on down the hill. He was 
conscious of amazed eyes following him as he 


276 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


drove through the town. Where formerly he 
had been greeted with friendly nods, there was 
now respectful silence. People rushed to win¬ 
dows and doorways to regard him with ab¬ 
sorbed interest. A millionaire—a multimillion¬ 
aire ? But why was he in that old car, with all 
his millions? It defied their understanding. 

As he stopped to telephone to the railway 
station a crowd quickly gathered and watched 
him with gaping interest. His romantic story 
was now public property. For nearly two days 
his name had been upon the lips of every one. 
As he arose from the phone the proprietor of 
the store came up, smiling effusively. 

“Just drop in any time, Mr. Bacon, when 
you want to use the phone. Always glad to see 
you.’’ 

Bacon thanked him. This was one of the 
men who had been afraid to be civil to him in 
days gone by for fear of displeasing the Pion¬ 
eer crowd. He was now unctuously affable. 

From the station master Bacon learned that 
Mrs. Brook and her daughter were on the 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


277 


Lannards’ private car, which was now attached 
to the east-bound train and was due to leave 
at once. Bacon leaped into the flivver and 
dashed madly toward the station. Already the 
excited station agent had rushed out on the 
platform shouting wildly, ^^Bacon is in town! 
He’s on his way down!” 

The commotion caused by this announce¬ 
ment was electric. A crowd of correspondents 
and photographers were present to see the 
Lannards leave. Miss Lannard was posing on 
the back platform for a final picture, and as she 
posed the reporters were firing a volley of 
questions at her. When was the engagement 
to be announced? Had she heard from Mr. 
Bacon? Was he to join her at some station 
farther along? Wasn’t it true that she knew 
all along where he was? Was it true that they 
were already married? And a score of other 
questions which she parried with pleasant 
evasiveness. 

It was in the midst of this rapid-fire inter¬ 
view that the station master’s shout exploded 


278 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


like a bomb: ''Bacon is in town! He’s on his 
way down!” A tearing rush of correspondents 
dashed away to meet the mysterious Bacon, a 
battery of cameras swung away from Miss 
Lannard to catch the arrival of that young 
man, and from the interior of the car came the 
pretty girlish figure of Mary Brook, cheeks 
flaming with excitement and heart pounding at 
the thought that Harry Rasher—Mr. Bacon— 
was coming. 

The conductor was impatiently looking at his 
watch. 

"Shall I hold the train?” he asked Mr. Lan¬ 
nard, but was answered quickly by Mrs. Lan¬ 
nard. 

"No,” she said, "it is not necessary.” 


CHAPTER XXIV 


The train was in motion when a flivver shot 
up to the platform and Harry Bacon leaped out 
against a wall of special correspondents and 
photographers. From both sides hands were 
seizing him and a hurricane of questions bom¬ 
barded his ears. Struggling through the bar¬ 
rier, he sprang upon the platform of the car. 
And then, to the amazement of the reporters, he 
pressed by Miss Muriel Lannard and was seen 
to intercept a second young lady who was en¬ 
deavoring to reenter the car. For a moment 
he held her hand and spoke tensely and earnest¬ 
ly. Miss Lannard hastily disappeared, and as 
the train swiftly receded onty the two figures 
of Mr. Bacon and Mary Brook remained oij the 
platform. 

'^My Gawd!’’ exclaimed a reporter. ''Now 
what do you make of that ?” 

279 


280 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


On the back platform of the moving train, 
the click of the rails steadily increasing, Harry 
Bacon held the hands of Mary Brook in a de~ 
termined clasp while he raised his voice in 
appeal. 

''Mary, you know I love you! Won't you— 
can't you tell me you will marry me?" 

She avoided his eyes, fearing to trust her¬ 
self, her heart singing with the happiness of 
hearing his words but her thoughts swirling 
in a panic of emotions. She had not accepted 
him when she thought he was poor. To do so 
now might be forever misunderstood. In a 
calmer moment he would surely think of it, 
and the thought would always be in the back¬ 
ground of his mind. / 

"Please answer me, Mary." And as she 
remained silent he went on: "Is it the fact that 
I am rich that makes you hestitate? Remem¬ 
ber, I was rich all the time I was falling in love 
with you." 

He seemed to have read her thoughts, and 
she was startled into words. 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


281 


But, Harry, how would you know that it 
was you I loved and not this great fortune? I 
wouldn^t give you my answer the other day 
before I knew. What must you think of me 
if I accepted you now?’’ 

‘'But you said you loved me then,” he an¬ 
swered. “That is all I want to know.” 

“I hesitated because they said you were in¬ 
sane-” 

He laughed. “I am—about you! Who gave 
you that information?” 

It was on the tip of her tongue to answer, 
but she forbore. She looked off down the re¬ 
ceding tracks. Why complicate matters by tell¬ 
ing the part Muriel had played? 

“Of course they thought I was crazy,” he 
continued. “I wanted them to. I purposely 
discharged Mr. Stabb when neither he nor 
Lannard knew I had a cent. That certainly 
sounded like the ravings of a lunatic.” 

A sudden fear assailed her. Even now he 
was talking oddly. How could he discharge 
Stabb? She did not realize the extent of his 



282 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


Lannard Steel holdings. Again he answered 
her thoughts. 

‘‘You are surprised. You perhaps don’t 
know that I have the controlling interest in 
the mills now.” And then, as though regretting 
his words, he hurried on: “But this isn’t what 
I want to talk about, Mary. I want you to be 
my wife. Can’t you understand? My money 
made no difference in my feeling toward you 
in Adamant. Why should it hereafter?” 

“I believe you, Harry,” she said, deeply 
moved, “and I do love you. Please believe me, 
Harry. I have for a long time. Mother 
knows, and I thought you must have known, 
too. But”—she hesitated—“now you are so 
rich a great world of possibilities is open to 
you. I want you to be sure of your feeling. In 
Adamant there were no other girls. Mere pro¬ 
pinquity might make you think you cared for 
the only one you knew while there. In New 
York it will be different. There will be lots 
of them. You are a great catch—every door 
will be open to you. How soon will you dis- 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


283 


cover that I am a very plain, simple person 
compared to those you will meet ?” 

"^Mary, that's all nonsense, and being a 
^catch’ is just what I want to avoid. Fm old 
enough to know what I want, and I want you!" 

'‘But—Muriel?" she questioned. 'T think 
she loves you, too, and you used to love her, 
didn't you?" 

"Yes, I thought I did, but never like this." 

She smiled faintly, and felt herself driven to 
her last defenses. 

"Harry, if you love me six months from 
now and still want me to marry you, I will, 
but if in that time you waver even the least bit 
you must be free to do as you wish. You see," 
she said wisely, "I know what temptations you 
are to meet. Until then—any thought of me 
must not influence you." 

He looked at her for a moment, then his eyes 
twinkled with a sudden decision. 

"It's a bargain," he said. "And now good- 
by till I come back for you." 

The platforrh was swaying as the train, now 


284 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


at high speed, swung dizzily around a curve. 
To her horror Harry calmly placed his hands 
on the rail preparatory to vaulting over it—to 
certain death, she thought. 

“Harry she screamed, and clutched him 
wildly. He turned, smiling at the success of 
his ruse, and in an instant she was in his arms, 
and with misty, half closed eyes was yielding 
to the happiness of his kisses. 

“You’re engaged to be married, Mary. Now 
let’s go in and break the news to your relatives 
and get it over with!” 

Instantly her face sobered. She pushed him 
from her and he saw tears standing in her 
eyes. 

The abrupt change in Mary Brook’s de¬ 
meanor alarmed Harry Bacon. “Mary!” he 
exclaimed. “You’re crying! Why, what have 
I said—or done? Please look at me.” He had 
her shoulders in two firm hands. With an ef¬ 
fort she controlled herself and looked up into 
his troubled eves. 

“I’m sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to act 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


285 


this way. You'll think me very silly, but''— 
her voice wavered—‘Tdarry, I'm frightened to 
death at the mere thought of living up to the 
responsibilities of being your wife. When you 
were just Harry Rasher it was different. Now 
that you are Mr. Bacon, so vastly rich and with 
a great position in life to fill—why, I'm just 
petrified—somehow I don't see myself fitting 
in at all." 

His seriousness relaxed and he smiled. 

‘‘You need never worry about that, Mary. 
You'd fit in any place that a real girl would fit. 
Would you have married me in Adamant when 
you thought I was poor ?" 

“I would have married you at any moment in 
the last six months—if you had asked me." 

“Then it's because I'm rich that you now 
hesitate?" 

She sm.iled whimsically. “I suppose I should 
be jumping at the chance of marrying you— 
most girls would. I'm sure, but now that you 
have become so—so eligible in the eyes of the 
world I'm afraid"—her voice trembled and she 


286 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


now voiced the fear that was uppermost in her 
heart —*'Ym afraid I couldn’t hold you.” 

He laughed at the very idea and pressed her 
hands reassuringly. 

''No, Harry, don’t laugh. I’m serious. I 
don’t think you quite realize what lies ahead of 
you. You will be moving in a world that I 
don’t know. I’m afraid I’ll be dreadfully out of 
place—and I don’t want you to be hampered. 
You have in your power to do such wonderful 
things and you’ve made such a perfectly splen¬ 
did beginning. Oh, Harry, I wish you could 
understand how I feel! And there are still 
great problems that you can help solve. The 
biggest of all is the relationship between em¬ 
ployers and employed. You are in a position 
to know both sides, to understand something 
of the two points of view, for you have been an 
employee and now you are to be an employer. 
You are rich enough to be unselfish and young 
enough to have ideals. Why, Harry, a won¬ 
derful world opens up to you if you remain as 
strong and as fine as you’ve been.” 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


287 


She spoke very earnestly. It was of him she 
was thinking and not of herself, and he saw in 
it the expression of the highest form of love. 

^'Everything you say makes me want you 
more and more,’’ he answered. "You could 
help so much.” 

"You may feel that way now, Harry—and 
it makes me very proud to have you say it— 
but the real test is yet to come. Now that peo¬ 
ple know you are rich there will be such temp¬ 
tations which even you may find hard to resist 
—and you will meet beautiful and fascinating 
girls who, by comparison, will make me seem 
very plain and unattractive.” 

One by one she was marshaling up the pos¬ 
sible objections to their married happiness. 

"I think you should wait until you are ab¬ 
solutely sure—and besides,” she hurried on, 
"there’s another reason. My mother is now 
very ill. I must stay with her until she is well 
or much better. That’s why we came on this 
trip.” 

He put his arm around her. 


288 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


f 

like to get off at the next station and get 
married. That’s the way I feel about you, 
Mary. But if you want me to wait a while, of 
course I will. Only remember this, we’re en¬ 
gaged from now on. Aren’t we?” 

The happiness in her eyes was his answer. 

Behind them the door opened and the porter 
came out with a wrap for Miss Brook. 

'‘Mrs. Lannard thought you might be cold,” 
he said. "She also wishes vou to ask Mr. Ba- 
con to stay to dinner.” 

"Come, Harry, we must go in. And please 
be polite to Aunt Isabel,” she whispered as she 
led the way into the car. He was very un¬ 
comfortable at the thought of again facing the 
people who had been so unkind to him. 

Mrs. Lannard, who had been a smoldering 
volcano of anger since leaving Adamant, in¬ 
stantly masked her feelings behind an exterior 
that was sauve and dignified. 

"We hope you will stay for dinner, Mr. Ba¬ 
con, and go on to New York with us if you 
desire. There are doubtless many business mat- 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


289 


ters which you and Mr. Lannard will wish to 
discuss. Please make yourself quite at home. 
Mary’s friends are my friends.” 

Mr. Lannard, less skilled in dissembling, re¬ 
mained in his stateroom, but Muriel presently 
appeared, and if there was an ache of disap¬ 
pointment or humiliation in her heart it was not 
reflected in her eyes. 

‘Well, have you two fixed it up?” she asked 
gaily. 

It was young Mr. Bacon who answered 
quickly. 

“Mary and I are engaged,” he said. “We 
are to be married as soon as her mother is 
better.” 

It was a bitter moment for Mrs. Lannard, 
but, true to her code, she concealed it. Except 
for a slight twitching of her lips there was no 
sign of the raging emotions within.^. She kissed 
Mary with a show of warmth, and after a 
moment, pleading weariness, she went unstead¬ 
ily to her stateroom. 

Later in the evening as Harry and Mary sat 


290 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


in the friendly darkness of the observation plat¬ 
form he smiled at the thought that if only he 
remembered what he had done with his little 
note-book he could now put an X before ‘"snob¬ 
bishness/' 


CHAPTER XXV 


Harry Bacon did not go on to New York in 
the Lannards’ private car. He said good night 
to Mary Brook at a town from which he 
planned to catch a later train due in the city 
the following forenoon. 

'Tdl call you up as soon as I get in” he whis¬ 
pered. ‘‘Please thank Mrs. Lannard for her 
kind invitation to go on with you to-night, and 
say I shall hope to thank her myself to-mor¬ 
row.’' 

He watched the train pull out, waving as 
long as the graceful figure on the back plat¬ 
form was distinguishable, and then settled 
down for a weary period of waiting. 

His thoughts followed the Lannard car, 
which when midnight came, he imagined as be¬ 
ing darkened, with its occupants wrapped in 
slumber. He did not dream that upon four 

291 


292 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


pillows in that car lay restless heads that vain¬ 
ly courted sleep. 

Mr. Lannard, rudely jolted out of his smug 
complacence by the events of the last few days, 
lay staring up into the darkness, a prey to 
gloomy thoughts. What fateful changes those 
days had wrought! 

He had lost control of the Lannard Steel 
Mills and could no longer order the direction 
of its destinies. This was a bitter blow to his 
pride. It would be interpreted as a symbol of 
failure. He could foresee the waning regard 
among those of his club associates whose 
friendship warms pleasantly under the glow of 
financial solvency and cools perceptibly when 
financial distress appears. He would be pitied! 
It was intolerable! 

In an adjoining compartment Mrs. Lannard 
lay wide-awake, with lips tightly compressed. 
By nature unyielding, she had not yet given up 
hope that out of this wretched mess her re¬ 
sourceful mind might find a way. It infuri¬ 
ated her to think of Bacon’s vast wealth and 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


293 


power being wasted on a girl like Mary Brook 
—a country mouse, who would never rise above 
babies, church socials, and the suburbs. It was 
unthinkable! Under her guidance, and married 
to Muriel, he could have had a brilliant social 
position among the people who really counted. 
Such maddening thoughts as these doomed 
Mrs.' Lannard to a night of wakefulness. 

Muriel, like her parents, was also a victim 
of the demon of insomnia which brooded over 
the Lannard car. A reading light glowed by 
her pillow and an open book on the counter¬ 
pane showed that she had tried in vain to read 
herself to sleep. A tiny handkerchief, damp 
and crumpled in her closed hand, revealed the 
trend of her thoughts. 

“Oh, what a mess Fve made!’’ she sobbed, 
“and it’s all mother’s fault—she with her 
wretched ambition for a title. How I ever al¬ 
lowed myself to be led into this mess is beyond 
belief.” In the ash-tray by her side were the 
crushed stumps of many cigarettes, mute evi¬ 
dence of her tortured nerves. “Oh, well, you 


294 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


got what was coming to you,” she smiled wear¬ 
ily. ‘‘You got yours and it serves you jolly 
well right—for not having a mind of your own. 
Hereafter Ell marry—Ell marry whoever 

-” And then she swallowed hard and 

buried her face in the pillow. 

Mrs. Brooks, tired and ill, had overcome the 
unusual noises and motions of the train and 
was asleep, but in the other bed her daughter 
was awake. She was reviewing the bewilder¬ 
ing procession of events that had culminated in 
the last few days. She lingered upon the avow¬ 
als of Harry^s devotion, his eagerness for an 
immediate marriage, and yet, try as she would, 
she could not now think of him as the same 
simple boy with whom she had so naturally 
drifted into love. It all seemed so unreal. Into 
the foreground of her thoughts always leaped 
the consciousness of that vast fortune, which 
meant complications, readjustments, and re¬ 
sponsibilities to which she feared she was tem¬ 
peramentally unfitted. Happiness and doubt. 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


295 


exaltation and misgivings—thus passed the 
dragging hours for Mary Brook. 

And Harry Bacon, watching the slow march 
of the minute hand as it made its rounds on 
the station clock, thought they were all peace¬ 
fully asleep! 

He had read all the newspapers he could 
buy. They contained long articles about him¬ 
self and the dramatic events of yesterday. 
There was much about Muriel but no mention 
of Mary. 

“They fooled themselves there/" he thought. 
He was glad he had not been photographed. 
He realized that when his features became fa¬ 
miliar to millions of newspaper readers there 
would be an end to future adventures requir¬ 
ing concealment of his identity. 

“I must keep my picture out of the papers,"" 
he decided, “at least until after Eve married."" 
A warm glow swept over him. “I hope her 
mother gets well in a hurry. Tm already im¬ 
patient."" 


296 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


By leaving the Lannard car he eluded the 
waiting photographers in New York and ar¬ 
rived unnoticed. 

Mary’s voice was happy when he telephoned. 

^'Aunty and Muriel have been perfectly love¬ 
ly to us,” she said, “and-” 

“How is your mother this morning?” he 
quickly asked. 

“She says she feels splendidly, but, poor dear, 
she looks dreadfully tired. Em so worried. 
Aunty thinks I should take her to Nauheim. 
And, Harry,” she hesitated, “prepare for a 
blow! Aunt Isabel wants us for dinner to¬ 
night.” 

“Complication number one,” he thought, 
but, “Hooray!” he exclaimed. “We can an¬ 
nounce our engagement!” 

Harry Bacon went to the Lannards’ expect¬ 
ing a small family dinner. Instead, there were 
sixteen guests, and he was the only one in a 
dinner coat. The others, all young people, were 
dressed for a formal occasion. Neither Mr. 
nor Mrs. Lannard was there. 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


297 


‘T managed to get them all since morning/' 
whispered Muriel. ‘'One came 'way from 
Southampton! Aren't you impressed?" 

Harry was more than impressed—he w^as 
painfully uncomfortable. He found barely a 
moment to speak to Mary Brook, whose simple 
dress was in glaring contrast to the beautiful 
gowns of the other girls. Muriel constantly in¬ 
terrupted to present new rivals. 

“This is my cousin, Mary Brook-" 

“Why, Muriel, you never told me about your 
cousin! You don't live in New York, do you, 
Miss Brook?" 

After cocktails, dinner was announced and 
Harry found himself placed between Muriel 
and a languid, exotic young lady who had ar¬ 
rived late. After waving and calling to friends 
around the table, she whispered to her other 
neighbor in an audible tone: 

“Who are these people?" 

Harry did not hear the answer, but he smiled 
rather grimly at the languid young lady's brief 
comment: 



298 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


‘‘Never heard of 'em.’’ 

Muriel was talking with the man on her left, 
and Harry found himself uncomfortably 
stranded. 

The languid young lady, shifted her interest 
to a youth across the table. 

“She’s certainly doing her best to make me 
feel out of it,” thought Harry. He longed to 
get up, smite the table with a startling bang, 
and call out, “Muriel, who is this damned stick 
you’ve wished on me?” It would create a 
merry scene, but even if it marked the end of 
his social career he would feel amply repaid. 
However, he subdued the impulse and endured 
the situation. 

“I didn’t catch your name.” The young lady 
had turned to him. 

“Bacon.” 

“Not the Boston Bacons?” 

“No, not the Boston Bacons.” 

“Oh—the Philadelphia Bacons ?” 

“No, not the Philadelphia Bacons.” 

Her eyes ranged along the table to other 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


299 


couples who interested her more. Harry had 
the feeling that as she talked to him her ears 
were tuned to the scraps of a conversation 
across the table. 

‘‘Oh, I remember—Artie Haswell told me 
you were frofh the West.’’ 

She allowed her gaze to linger upon him for 
the fraction of a second, but evidently she had 
never heard of him. The recent head-lines had 
escaped her. 

‘T presume you live in New York?” he said, 
after a pause. 

She stared at him. It wasn’t possible he had 
never heard of her! 

“What a day!” she grunted. “I’ve motored 
all the way from the other end of Long Island 
—and for this dinner!” There was undis¬ 
guised disgust in her tone. “Do you know any¬ 
body in Southampton ?” 

“No,” he answered. 

“Have you ever been there?” 

“Never. I’m afraid. Miss Barberry, you 
will find I am quite an outsider.” He added 


300 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


brightly: ''For some months I drove a truck 
in a Pennsylvania steel mill—then I got into 
the retail grocery business for a while/’ 

She glared at him. At last he had arrested 
her attention. She felt that he was laughing 
at her! Why was he here—in the seat of 
honor? Was he some freak or genius that 
Muriel had picked up to exhibit to her friends? 
A truck driver 1 Mercy! 

"You see,” he was saying pleasantly, "I’m 
quite willing to tell you all about myself, if 
there’s nothing else to talk about.” He caught 
Mary Brook’s eye, and his own fluttered in an 
almost imperceptible wink. 

"Who are you winking at?” exclaimed Miss 
Barberry, exasperated. 

Muriel interposed. 

"Careful, Gwennie! You will find Mr. 
Bacon a difficult subject to trifle with. I tried 
it, didn’t I, Harry?” He flushed painfully. 
"Haven’t you been reading the papers lately, 
Gwen ?” 



AN HEIR AT LARGE 


301 


‘T haven’t seen a paper for a week.” Her 
voice was apprehensive. ‘Why? Was there 
something about Mr. Bacon ?” 

“Wait!” cried Muriel as she arose and lifted 
a glass of champagne. “Fm going to make a 
speech,” she called out, and the chatter was in¬ 
stantly hushed—“a very important speech,” 
she continued, with a little catch in her voice. 
“You’ve read the papers the last few days, all 
except Gwennie here, and she doesn’t know 
what it’s all about. You’ve seen pages of silly 
stuff about Harry Bacon and me. Well, it’s 
all fiction!” She looked down the table at 
Mary. “I want you to rise and drink to the 
health of my cousin, Mary Brook, and my dear 
friend, Harry Bacon. I am announcing their 
engagement.” 

A sudden impulse led her on, and only 
Harry Bacon saw the faint contraction of her 
lips. “Mr. Bacon is now the controlling owner 
of the Lannard Steel Company, the position 
so long held by my father.” 


302 


AN HEIR AT LARGE 


There was a smile on her lips, but at the 
cost of what an effort! Muriel had risen to 
the heights! 

Thus was the engagement of Mary Brook 
and Harry Bacon made public. 


The End 


\ 











































































































